I will Rise
by spectre4hire
Summary: AU. Commander Shepard's hunt for Saren is put on hold upon receiving a distress signal from a Dr. Miranda Lawson. The detour will force him to make a new ally if his squad wants to survive the terror that Cerberus has unleashed.
1. Prologue

**A/N: ****The Mass Effect universe, characters, creations, and general storyline is the property of Bioware. I'm simply having fun with some ideas.**

**This is an AU story, so liberties will be taken. **

**I will Rise**

**By: Spectre4hire**

**Prologue**

"Bitch!"

Miranda Lawson let out a tired sigh. It was going to be one of those days, she just knew it. Three weeks, it had been three weeks since she reluctantly inherited a Cerberus cell that had skated on being rogue. The cell had jeopardized years of research and sufficient funds. The responsibility had fallen on Miranda to clean up the mess while at the same time try to comb through the remnants of information and experiment logs in an attempt to salvage the hefty investment.

She already had most of the workers against her. None of them were too fond of her accountability and need of results. They couldn't understand that she was not here to coddle them, but to get results from them. Hence, she earned the moniker of 'Ice Queen' due to her chilling personality and aloof demeanor, traits she made no apologies for. She wasn't here to make friends. She was given a job, and was going to squeeze every last drop of useful information and intel from this cell.

Other members of the crew who were not so creative, just relied on the vulgar term-'bitch.' Such as the word that Miranda had just heard being shouted from the Mess Hall, which was a few doors down from the corridor that she was currently walking through. She was sure that some of the scientists had probably taken sanctuary in the Mess Hall to allow themselves an opportunity to vent with equally fuming colleagues about the growing changes in protocol that she was issuing.

Miranda appeared at the open doors of the Mess Hall, quick to note the glowering mood of those who packed the cafeteria tables. Many of whom were grumbling amongst themselves, slandering and continued to use vulgar terms to vent their growing frustration. However, upon further inspection, she realized that she was not the target of their anger, but a projection. She remained in the shadows of the corridor, so that she could not be seen by those presiding in the Main Hall, but was in a position so that she was still given a proper view of the projection.

The projection was of a human female reporter, whose name flashed at the bottom of the screen, Miranda wasn't paying attention to the rather absurdly long name, her attention shifted to the person whom the reporter was interviewing. It was Commander John Shepard, Humanity's first Spectre.

"You would think she would have humanity's best interests!" complained one man, whom Miranda was sure worked Security.

One of the grumbling men, whose uniform was covered by a stained apron walked between the tables, gathering plates and bowls. "What do you expect from a reporter? They're all leeches!"

She was quick to notice the passion and sincerity behind their protesting of this reporter. She was interested in how these working stiffs so eagerly defended the famous Commander, who none of them had ever met or spoken to. It was more a merit of Shepard's character and charisma then a fault in these men. While her personality and character only seemed to alienate both herself and her colleagues.

Miranda looked at the man closely wanting to study his every feature. _This was the Lion of Elysium, _she thought, remembering reading first hand reports from Cerberus Operatives who had been on the ground before and after the Battle of Elysium. What Shepard had done was legendary, having rallied civilians, and tourists to not only fight skilled mercenaries and raiders, but to successfully defend the colony until Alliance reinforcements came was incredible. Those feats alone would impress even the hardiest general, but Shepard also had single-handedly held the main line when it was breached for hours until proper reinforcements could relieve him.

_Brace, charismatic, resourceful,_ she paused in her listing, unable to deny the man his due, he was indeed incredibly skilled. These were the same skills that Humanity prided themselves on. These were skills that Cerberus looked for in their own recruits.

Even being the busy Operative that she was, she could still remember the months that followed Elysium, you couldn't turn on the Holos or the Extra-net without his image and story popping up. In that span she had visited numerous human colonies throughout the Traverse, those of whom were unfriendly with the Alliance and even had run-ins with asari, salarians, and turians and all of them were familiar with the deeds that Shepard was heralded for.

However all that changed in Shepard's next battle when he was given a new title_-'The Butcher of Torfan.' _Miranda had thought the name was more the media's attempt to vilify the Alliance-Poster-Boy. She knew the media well enough to know that the only thing they loved more than a hero, was a hero that fell.

She remembered the details of that particular battle as well. Shepard had personally led the charge in the Batarian stronghold, losing nearly his entire platoon in the process, but in the end, he succeeded, he had gotten the job done. Miranda couldn't fault him for succeeding, he had done his job. He had done his duty. He did what the Alliance asked him to do. Getting results was something she personally took pride in during her numerous assignments for Cerberus.

Torfan was the Batarian's last serious attempt at making noise in the Traverse in their slaving and raiding of Human colonies and human interest in the area. Because of Shepard, colonizing was able to flourish unhindered without the potential threat of the Batarian Hegemony lashing out at them.

Miranda easily recalled the Fallout of the battle, instead of being grateful for what Shepard had done. He was vilified and deemed a Butcher for sending so many men and women to die on that moon. The fact that Shepard had personally led the assault was ignored by his critics. The Alliance bowing to political pressure performed a vanishing act on Shepard, who overnight disappeared from the spotlight.

It seemed Shepard would get the last laugh, returning years later as Humanity's first Spectre. No one seemed to question Shepard's absence. There were still whispers of Torfan, but just as many would whisper of Elysium. To the general populace, they seemed to have forgotten about the little incident on Torfan, and instead decided to highlight his record at Elysium and now his incredible feat of becoming the first Human Spectre.

She frowned at the cowardice shown by the Alliance. Believing it only further highlighted their faults and their growing weakness on the galactic stage. To her, the Alliance no longer cared about humanity; instead they only wished to stay in the good graces of the Citadel was why Miranda Lawson worked for Cerberus. They had not forgotten the need to not only preserve Humanity, but to strengthen and advance the human race. Just as the other species had ways of serving and protecting themselves, the Salarians had the STGs, the turians had their Black Watch, and the Asari had their Commandos.

She returned her attention to the holo-image of Shepard inspecting the man closely, wanting a better look at the man who has made so much history in these last few years.

He was broad shouldered, with short black hair, tall, muscular, with a clear military stance that reflected his years of active duty. However, it was when he turned to the camera to end the hostile interview where she noticed his most alluring quality his ensnaring blue eyes.

It was a rare trait. Many believed the genetics had died out. She had blue eyes, but that was because of her father. His need of legacy, his quest for perfection… A rush of annoyance filled her, causing her to instinctively clench her fists at her side.

The emotion had left as soon as it came, but not wanting to be bothered anymore about the life she left behind. Miranda Lawson took one last look at Humanity's first Spectre, before walking past the Mess Hall and back towards her office.

This particular cell was made up of four underground facilities that were all connected by a series of underground tunnels. Three of the facilities were for research, containing the cells of their test subjects. As well as their mainframe, this remained locked and supervised at all time. It was in this VI mainframe that they were able to store all of the information gathered in the months of research. These three facilities also housed the rooms and offices of a number of scientists and assistants.

The fourth facility contained the cell's director's office, the barracks for the security personnel, Mess Hall, storage units, Cargo Bay, and the rarely used hangar due to the planet's conditions, the cell was lucky if they received two supply freighters in eight months.

While she walked, Miranda reflected on the circumstances that brought her here. The heads of the cell were becoming bolder in their experiments. In their need to validate the amount of money being poured into their cell, they wanted to broaden their test subjects, this included Alliance soldiers. With repercussions that led to the death of a nosy Alliance Admiral. A death which was more difficult to cover up then a handful of Alliance Marines, not that Miranda was justifying the previous cell's decision making, because she wasn't.

To Miranda Lawson it was these people's actions that hurt Cerberus's image. Their actions had been inexcusable and she was thankful that she was the one to hold them accountable. It only took a couple of bullets...

After handling the leadership of the cell, Miranda discovered the troves of research, much of which she had downloaded into her Omni-tool in hopes of catching up with the Project. She had been here for three weeks, and still hadn't gone through all of the files and reports on the subjects and experiments that this cell was responsible for-Thorian creepers and Rachni. It had been a startling but alluring revelation. The information collected was staggering, and some of the results were quite promising.

She could still remember the first time she came into contact with these 'creepers.' She was amazed at how obedient they were. They followed through every order, whether it was fetching items across a room, or attacking automated turrets. These creepers obeyed every task with complete success. The sky was the limit for these docile servants. She could only wonder of the success Cerberus would have if they could successfully replicate and mass produce these creepers and turn them into shock troopers. It would be a terrible sight for even the hardiest Asari commando. These creepers would help allow Humanity to take its rightful and respectful place as equals amidst the other Council species.

The rachni had proven to be another story. Whereas the creepers were obedient, the rachni were rebellious. Upon taking over the project, Miranda had learned that they were responsible for killing a few Cerberus employees. Since Miranda had become the project director, the rachni had killed two more. However, their deaths were not in vain, since she had witnessed the gruesome executions, and believed that valuable information had been discerned from the unexpected events.

She frowned, remembering the two deaths. It had been an accident. The Project Director stepped into her office which was nothing larger than an oversized closet. Taking a seat behind her desk, turning on her terminal and was pleased to see the lab had forwarded their notes from the last experiment. It had been another 'failure.'

They had tried to communicate with the rachni through a series of recordings that they had previously recorded in an earlier session. The tests showed initial promise until the recordings began to skip. This caused the rachni to go ballistic. Thankfully, the critters were sealed in fortified cages. There were no casualties.

Miranda Lawson found the rachni an intriguing, but frustrating riddle to crack. The rachni nearly brought the Council to ruin, if not for the timely intervention of the Krogan. One would imagine that there would or should be a plethora of information on the species, but sadly it seemed the direct opposite was true. The Council thought it would be far easier to just eliminate the species, without studying the promising species.

_The Citadel's loss will be our gain._ The thought alone brought a thin smile to Miranda's lips.

"Director Lawson."

Miranda recognized the voice immediately. It belonged to the head of this cell's security- Oscar Stackhouse.

He was a veteran Alliance soldier who had been persuaded to join Cerberus only a few months ago after the events of Eden Prime. He was a soldier who had become restless with the boring details of a security guard. He stood nearly six feet tall, shaved head, alert brown eyes, his face riddled with scars from his duties fighting batarian pirates in the Traverse and fresh ones from the Geth encounters on Eden Prime.

"Yes, Stackhouse?"

She didn't look up to greet him, keeping her attention on the fresh emails from the lab. However, she could still feel his eyes roaming over her body. It was just another price of the tailored genetics that her father had strived for in making her perfect, in making her the beginning of a lasting dynasty. Her looks, her intelligence, her genetics, her training, everything about her was made for her father's advancing legacy. She was the pinnacle of humanity. She was the supposed future of humanity.

"I just got back from the Cargo Bay; apparently our supplies are going to be delayed."

Miranda sighed. She should have been expecting this. The planet they were on had several benefits. Its isolation and distance from the nearest populated world made it ideal to perform experiments without worrying about interference or discovery by either the Alliance or the Council. However, the planet chosen was a frozen wasteland. It was constantly snowing with gusts of winds that easily reached a hundred miles an hour, the planet was peppered with hail the size of battle helmets. The surface and atmosphere of the planet was anything but welcoming, so in order for the cell to operate, all of the facilities were built underground. It shielded them from the nastier conditions of the planet, but their supply frigates were not so lucky, when they tasked to fly in these hostile conditions to deliver supplies.

The disappointing news got Miranda to glance up from her notes; quick to catch the Head of Security openly staring at her chest. Chief Stackhouse at least had the decency to look away when he realized he was caught. Not wanting further attention drawn to her figure, she decided to bite down on any scathing insult she might have hurled, instead she returned her eyes back to her terminal to finish reading the data.

"Did they estimate when they would be able to get past this storm?"

"A week or so."

"Typical," Miranda replied, closing the report on her terminal.

The Chief offered her a shrug, "That's what happens when you want to stay off the radar."

Miranda nodded, "Then security should begin the next rotation, since they won't be needed to unload supplies."

"We'll leave shortly. I'm letting the men finish watching the Holos," he replied, before amending. "Will that be okay, Director?"

"Are they watching the Spectre interview?" she asked, remembering seeing some of the security detail at the Mess Hall when she walked by.

"Yeah, can't say I don't blame 'em."

Miranda recognized the respectful tone that slipped out of the gruff security chief. "You saw him in action didn't you, Stackhouse?"

Stackhouse straightened up immediately at the question, a look of pride on his face. "I was on one of the responding teams for Elysium. I remember walking the streets where the battle had occurred." He paused, a smile on his face before he continued. "And I remember the bodies… There was so many of those batarian bastard corpses, so many piles of those damn slavers. The height of each pile going about-" Stackhouse put his hand just above his head to signal the height of the piles. "And they were all killed by one man."

Miranda didn't have any difficulty believing Stackhouse's report, remembering similar reports from various Cerberus Operatives. "I'm sure it was quite the sight."

"I was at Eden Prime, too. We weren't one of the details that got the hit the hardest, but I did see the Geth and…" he paused, with a slight shiver. "Well, I don't know what you would call those… those things, but they looked an awful lot like the creepers we have here."

"Really?" Miranda asked, perking up at this new and startling revelation. She was curious for any detail about the events on Eden Prime, since she hadn't read any of the reports from any reliable sources. She was quick to notice that whatever Stackhouse had seen, these supposed creepers it seemed to have quite the emotional effect on him.

"Yeah, but the difference between the creepers and those…husks. Was that the husks were made on these 'Dragon's Teeth."

"Dragon's Teeth?" repeated a confused Miranda. Making a mental note to further research the attack on Eden Prime and to further investigate. It was bad enough that the Geth had openly attacked a human colony, but if they possessed this sort of technology, then counter-measures needed to be developed and quickly.

"Yeah," Stackhouse replied hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably, at his need to further share the horrors at Eden Prime. "From what I was told by the survivors the Geth…well they impaled the colonists on these pikes and they… they transformed into these husks."

_That's…horrifying, _she thought, at the mental images that were conjured at his description of the events. She was careful to keep her expression from cracking while she continued to wear a look of icy indifference, but inside she was squirming at the revelation of these geth made husks.

Before either of them could go further in the conversation, her office was plunged in red light while a loud siren blared.

Miranda knew at once what was happening. The facility alarms had been triggered. A frantic voice was quick to come over Miranda and Stackhouse's Omni-tool communicator.

"This is Doctor Okana, Thorian creepers are out of control! Abandon the facility!"

"Shit!" Chief Stackhouse cursed. He was already typing on his omni-tool frantically. No doubt, trying to rally up security personnel in hopes of containing the damage. The Thorian creeper facility was the closest to the mess hall. If they were on a rampage then it would be a bloodbath to the unexpected off duty Cerberus workers who were residing there. But in order for them to reach the mess hall, they would have to pass…

"Damn it," Miranda shouted, pushing herself out from behind her desk. "We need to secure the other facilities."

"I've have already sent out the alert," replied Stackhouse, who was moving to the door.

"Good, I'll assemble all non-security and usher them into the safe room," Miranda instructed, before pulling out her hand cannon and automated pistol.

Stackhouse gave a firm nod, with the doors opening. "Meet you there."

Miranda turned just in time to see Chief Stackhouse's head become severed from his body by a creeper. The chief's body swayed, blood spurting from his neck like a fountain before the body fell backwards.

She raised her hand cannon without thought, took aim and peppered the creeper in the chest with a few quick shots. It stumbled backwards before collapsing into the corridor.

Miranda stepped around her desk, turning to the headless cadaver of Chief Stackhouse. There was no remorse, or show of sadness at the loss of this man. She was void of such emotions, unattached with those she worked with. She did give a quick disappointed shake of the head, realizing she had lost the second best fighter in the entire facility. She had barely taken a step towards the door when three more creepers revealed themselves in the corridor.

They were an unsettling sight when they were docile servants. Their resemblance and similar movements to human was unnerving. With their sickly looking grayish skin, large black eyes, sharp fingers with their index finger's length as long and as sharp as a butcher knife. They communicated with one another in low, throaty groans that were an unsettling sound for anyone else.

The pack of three creepers advanced on the Cerberus Director.

Miranda called up on her biotics, blue pulsating energy enveloping her before she snapped her arm forward, sending a powerful warp to the nearest creeper. Who was picked off its feet before being smashed into the wall. Its body exploded with sappy blood and dried flesh that showered Miranda's office.

The two remaining creepers were not deterred by the loss of their comrade advancing on her, cutting the distance between them with long, dangerous swipes of their sharp claws. Miranda went for her automated pistol, firing an arc of bullets that tore through the two remaining creepers.

Her Omni-tool buzzed, as the automated voice of the facility's VI droned. "Facility two and three have been compromised, rachni are loose. All Cerberus personnel make for the safe room."

"Contact Cerberus Command," Miranda ordered.

"Impossible, all long range communications with Cerberus have been disabled."

"Send an encrypted distress signal through our other channel," Miranda instructed, knowing there was a certain level of risk with her order. Their second channel could easily be hacked into and the signal could hypothetically be received by any passing ship in the area.

She left her office, entering the narrow corridor, where a cacophony of noises echoed off of the walls of the corridor. The screams of frightened women, the shouts of dying men, but she made no inclination to go in their direction. She moved down the corridor, her only focus was on surviving. She had her pistol raised, and was ready to fire at the slightest sign of the creepers.

"Prepare recordings for distress signal."

"Preparing…" The VI replied.

A door that Miranda just passed opened with a soft swish, causing the Cerberus Director to instinctively spin on the spot to face the room. The Mess Hall had been turned into a battle zone; the tables had been turned over to form make-shift barriers, to keep the attackers at-bay in this desperate battle for survival. With the fresh crimson blood smeared along the walls, the floor littered with limbs, and a pair of mutilated corpses, as well as a few organs strewn along the floor. It was clear that the battle was won by the creepers.

Miranda was about to turn to leave when she heard a frantic whimper coming from under one of the turned over tables. She cautiously stepped forward, pistol drawn. "Who's there?"

"Director Lawson, thank God!" shouted a woman jumping out from her hiding spot. Miranda recognized the woman as one of the Doctor's assistants. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and there were splats of blood on the white jacket and brown pants she was wearing. "It was awful! Three of them came in out of nowhere; before we could even react they killed Freddie and Ramirez."

"Where are they now?" asked a terse Miranda. She didn't want to be bothered by the details of these nameless corpses. She needed to know where those damn creepers were.

The girl responded with a frantic yelp, while her eyes widened to saucers. Miranda knew immediately something was wrong, spinning around to find herself face to face with one of those creepers. The creature swiped at her abdomen, she tried to side-step but the claws of the creeper were still able to slash through her shirt and flesh. She let out a wince, before calling on her biotics, the blue energy easily wrapping itself around the now helpless creeper. Her biotics carried the creeper up to the ceiling, before smashing it onto the ground, the creeper's flesh and ooze splattered in several directions.

She didn't have time to celebrate the victory since two more creepers advanced on her. Not wanting to get too close to these potentially dangerous creatures, she reloaded her pistol and opened fire. Without kinetic barriers or armor, the bullets easily tore through the creature's flesh, both of them falling to the floor in several pieces.

Momentarily satisfied, Miranda went back to the cut on her waist, thankful to see that the cut wasn't very deep, even with the trickling of blood from the gash. She immediately applied the right amount of medi-gel to numb the pain and was pleased when the small wound began to close. In a matter of hours, there wouldn't even be a scar on her flawless pale skin, because of her tailored genetics and her father's tampering in his quest for perfection.

Miranda leveled her best icy glare and scowl at the assistant who was still cowering behind the tables, being utterly worthless. If it hadn't been for that damn assistant, she wouldn't have even needed any of the medi-gel. She left the Mess Hall without even a word to the assistant. Unfortunately, the hysterical assistant had finally been able to summon the strength or courage to do something, since she was now following Miranda like a lost puppy, letting out the occasional whimper and sniffle.

Ignoring the assistant, Miranda refocused her attention on her Omni-tool, calling up the VI to prepare a recording.

"Recording is ready to begin," responded the VI.

She took a deep breath, reciting the words in her head before she spoke them. "This is Dr. Miranda Lawson. I am sending this distress signal because our facility has been attacked. We have already lost two-thirds of our staff. We are running low on supplies and will not be able to hold out much longer, we are requesting immediate assistance. Coordinates are as follows…"

"Distress signal is launched," announced the VI, after a few seconds to record, process, and then send the signal.

"Is someone going to come?" asked the assistant, in between bouts of whimpering.

"Of course, it's only a matter if we're alive when they do."


	2. 1: Distress

**I will Rise**

**By Spectre4hire**

**Chapter One: Distress**

Shepard was fuming.

He stood in the communication room, after finishing up another debriefing with the Citadel Council. This was only the second one he had had with them, and he was already sure that these meetings were pointless.

He had given them the report on his mission on Feros. He included in his report his decision of killing every colonist on Zhu's Hope. Those colonists had become thralls. They were obedient servants of the ancient fauna life-form known as the Thorian. The Thorian had poisoned their minds, using them as cannon fodder to protect itself. Its plan failed. Shepard killed each and every colonist who fired on him, before killing the Thorian itself.

The Lion of Elysium let out a tired sigh, walking out of the communication room. He held neither regret nor remorse for what he did down there. His duty had been to stop the Thorian. The colonists had gotten in his way. They had to be dealt with.

Recalling his meeting with the Council, he felt a strong urge for a shot of whiskey. His mind went to the bottle of 'contraband' that Kaidan had delivered to him before the mission on Feros. Lieutenant Alenko had been under the belief that Shepard would dispose of the whiskey, which Shepard planned to. It probably just wasn't in the way that the Lieutenant would have thought.

Shepard allowed himself a smile; while he thought about cracking open the bottle of contraband. He walked past the saluting marine, who stood guard on the doors that led down the stairs and to the second level of _the Normandy._ He walked down the stairs, his thoughts unfortunately returning back to his encounter with the Council. He had thought being a Spectre would mean that he wouldn't have to listen to the pointless scolding or political ranting about unjust ramifications. However, he was not so lucky.

With his first meeting with the Council, he was scolded for destroying supposedly 'precious' prothean ruins when he rescued Liara from the clutches of Saren. Now, they were angry with him because he killed an ancient creature that was responsible for brainwashing hundreds of innocent colonists.

They never asked about the colonists or his choice to kill them. The lives of those innocent civilians meant nothing to the alien Council. They had wanted to study this ancient life-form. _Because that worked so well for ExoGeni, _he snorted in amusement before shaking his head as he descended the last stairs. He walked around the elevator and towards the lit pathway that led him to his chambers but when he turned the corner, he saw Ashley sitting alone at one of the Mess Hall tables. Her head in her hands as she stared down at the floor.

He knew his orders did not go over well with Ashley and Kaidan. He sighed, taking one last look at his door, and knowing his shot of whiskey could wait. He stepped towards Ashley.

"It's difficult isn't it?"

Her head shot up, her brown eyes fixing on him while he approached. He could see the self-doubt shimmering beneath her brown orbs.

"There was another way."

He knew what she was referring to. After leaving the ExoGeni Headquarters, Shepard and his squad met back up with the ExoGeni scientists who had taken refuge along the Skyway. One of the scientists, Juliana Baynham proposed using a nerve like gas distributed from the grenades that could effectively knock out the colonists under the Thorian's control. In theory, since the scientist had never tested the chemical to know for sure.

He stood in front of the table. "I know that."

She looked at him with disbelief. "Why didn't you take it?"

Shepard reached out to grab the edge of the table, his fingers gently tapping along the flat surface. "It was my call."

"We could have saved them, sir."

"Could?" he repeated, tilting his head to the side, noticing the doubt lingering behind her eyes, as she furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of what he just said. "I wasn't going to risk my life on a could have."

"Even at the expense of the colonists?"

"Yes," he answered flatly.

She shook her head. He could see in her eyes, she was fighting as hard as she could to reject his reasoning, his thinking. "I was taught to protect the innocent, not to gun them down, sir."

"They weren't innocent, Ash," he reminded her, his tone soft, but commanding. "They were trying to kill us."

"Because of that damn plant!" Ashley slammed her fists into the table, as she stood from her seat, her breathing heavy, her eyes cold and transfixed on him. "We could have distributed the medicine!" Her eyes softened, turning away from him and onto her fists which were anchored onto the table after slamming them, her cheeks flushed, realizing the tone of voice and the words she used to her superior officer. The Alliance Spacer was quick to look forlorn, meekly sitting back down.

"I apologize, sir."

He waved off her apology. He didn't mind the fire or her words. He respected the voice of every person on his ship, and was more than willing to listen to them. As long as they understood that his word was final.

"What if we charged the colonists," Shepard theorized, walking along the table, his fingers skimming along the surface. "They were firing at us, and we used this grenade and it didn't work."

He paused, looking up to see Ashley was hanging on his every word.

"And nothing happened," he finished, with a roll of his shoulders. "They remained under the control of the Thorian. They would have killed us, without thought and without hesitation."

She frowned. He knew that she had probably not thought of that possible and very likely scenario. She lightly combed her fingers through her honey brown hair, her eyes distant as she reflected on this scenario.

He stopped when he stood directly across from the Gunnery Chief.

"I…I didn't think of that."

He nodded with understanding, "You're not supposed to, Ash, because as your Commander, that's my job."

She let out a heavy sigh, before looking back up at him. In the dim light of the Mess Hall, and the vulnerability of the strong, fiery marine, Shepard noticed the subtle beauty of Ashley Williams. It was not an observation that a Superior Officer should make. He was quick to repress the thoughts from growing, knowing how dangerous one stray thought could lead to

"You don't regret it?"

"No."

She didn't look convinced, "Just like that?"

"Yeah, just like that," he said, "Remorse, regret can form seeds of doubt into one's consciousness. It is a poison that will bring with it hesitation and uncertainty. Your confidence as a leader will wither as will a growing inability to make the important decisions."

"Like with Torfan?" she asked, she widened her eyes at the slip of the question. She like all members of his crew had never brought up what happened on Torfan in his presence.

"Yeah, just like with Torfan," he answered. "As your leader, I must be above such emotions. I am given an objective and as such will do everything in my power to complete such duty, no matter the consequences."

"It must be difficult," she opined.

Shepard allowed himself to smirk, "only to those who are around me."

She gave him a puzzling look, but he made no attempt to further clarify his position. She must have understood that as well, since she pushed herself up from behind the table. He watched her walk over to the kitchenette cabinets, pulling out two protein bars. She raised one in his direction as a question.

He nodded in answer, and she brought both bars back over to their table. She gave him one, which he thankfully took, the rumble of his stomach, a reminder that hadn't eaten in several hours. He tore open the wrapper before sinking his teeth into the bar. The artificial oatmeal raison flavor almost made it easier to swallow. Almost.

"What did the Council say?" she asked, sitting back down at the table, and opening her own bar.

He let out a mirthless chuckle. "They rebuked me for not saving the Thorian."

He noticed the look of anger flash behind her brown eyes, before shaking her head, her lips pursed together. "Figures, the alien Council would neither care nor complain about the death of hundreds of **human** colonists."

The angry twinge in her tone at the mention of the Council did not go unnoticed by Shepard. He had had similar conversations with Ashley in the past, knowing her pro-human roots and lingering suspicion or doubt within the Alien Community. He didn't fault her feelings. He too held similar suspicions, but unlike Ashley's humanity's leadership was also under the microscope to the Commander, which included the Alliance. He held all accountable and viewed all with suspicion- Alien or Human and friend or foe.

"Probably not," He took another bite of the bar. It was difficult for him to make sure his face didn't contort into disgust when he swallowed the artificial taste.

"The Council isn't going to change, Shepard," Ashley remarked. "They're never going to have our best interests at heart. They will always look to protect their own interests first." She paused, uncertain if she should continue with her train of thought. He gave her an encouraging nod, permitting her to continue.

"Sure, they will throw us a bone here and then pat us on the head when we behave but they're not going to risk their lives for our sakes."

"And you think humanity is different?"

"No, humanity shouldn't be different," she finished her own protein bar, cradling the wrapper in hand before slowly closing her fist around the piece of plastic and squeezing.

"We need to look out for our best interests as well. I mean if a bear attacks us, we'll sick our dog on it before we attack it. As much as we loved that dog, it still isn't human."

He frowned at her choice of words. He was aware of her suspicions of aliens and her discomfort in being around aliens on-board, but he was quick to note that she was getting a better in being in the constant company of the other alien crewmembers. Though, he would admit that she and the others still had a long way to go, before Shepard would consider his diverse squad, a true cohesive unit.

"These sound like some strong held beliefs," he noted, deciding not to mention that her words were on the verge of something you would find on a Terra Firma pamphlet.

"Experience," was her quick reply. Her eyes on the wrapper she had crushed into her hand, she dropped the crumpled piece of plastic onto the table, watching as the crumbs sprinkled onto the clean tabletop.

Shepard pocketed his half-eaten bar, deciding that he didn't have the stomach to finish it yet. He survey Ashley, whose eyes remained on the table, a possible revelation came to him at what she was referring to.

"You don't approve do you?"

"Sir?"

"At the side-missions we're doing," he clarified, "The missions for Wrex, Garrus, and Tali." He knew his words struck a chord upon seeing her flustered expression.

"I just don't think it's wise," she commented delicately, her fingers pinching the crumbs that had fallen from her crumpled wrapper. "It's stupid, sir, to risk our asses over some worthless, crummy armor or past vendettas."

"I think that these missions are absolutely crucial to our mission to stop Saren."

She looked up, showing him a puzzled look, her eyes watching him carefully.

"They're a part of our crew, my crew," he explained, running his fingers along the growing stubble of his chin. "They are alone on this ship, surrounded by humans. The only aliens on an Alliance ship, and yet they are risking their lives to help us."

"As their Commander, it is my responsibility to reward their loyalty, their service. So if they request a small detour or side errand, here and there, then I will make it a priority, just if it were yourself or Lt. Alenko."

"I never thought of it that way," Ashley acknowledged her eyes betrayed the disagreement she held for his choice.

He tried a new tactic. "If we can't put aside our petty differences to stop Saren then we might as well sound the trumpets when the Geth come. Since there will be no point in fighting them, if we're too pre-occupied in suspecting our ally is going to shoot us in the back."

"Commander Shepard?" The voice of XO Pressley echoed in the Mess Hall.

He instinctively looked up to the speaker that was broadcasting the Navigator's voice, "Yes, Pressley?"

"We have just received a distress signal with encryption that matches the known Cerberus codes from the bases and operatives we apprehended earlier."

"Very well, I'm on my way up."

"Very good Commander, Pressley out."

"Just what we need," Ashley commented sourly, wrinkling her nose in disgust, "More Cerberus."

Shepard regarded the Chief for a moment before motioning to the stairs, a silent gesture to follow him. She agreed with a nod, pushing herself from her seat, and following him to the staircase.

"I'm surprised by your thoughts on Cerberus."

She rounded on him, "They're terrorists, sir!" She shook her head, her eyes narrowing up the path ahead of them, while they continued to ascend up the staircase. "You saw what they did at those bases. What they did to the…Admiral," her eyes softening, bowing her head, to pay respect at the loss of the Rear-Admiral.

"I know, Ash," he said with a nod. He could easily recall the three bases, he and his squad had raided. Two of them had been crawling with creepers and strange, deadly…bugs. It wasn't until they reached the third base, it was abandoned, and there were eerie reminders of the past tenants, blood splattered walls, and of course the corpse of the deceased Admiral, who had been leading the Crusade in trying to stop Cerberus.

"You seem to share their pro-human stance," he observed, politely, not wanting to further ruffle her feathers.

"I would never join them," Ashley said firmly. "I'm Alliance through in through, sir. It's in my blood."

"Don't start thinking that the Alliance has clean hands, Ash," Shepard reminded the Gunnery Chief just as the door in front of them slid open. The soldier on call saluted Shepard as the two passed, to approach the Galaxy Map, Pressley stood below the map, typing away at his terminal, looking up at Shepard's arrival; he gave him a crisp salute.

Shepard stepped up the ramp that would give him full access and view of the Galaxy Map. "Can you bring up the signal, Pressley?"

"Of course, sir," Pressley said, after typing at the terminal, for a few seconds, an accented feminine voice broadcasted through the terminal speakers.

_"This is Dr. Miranda Lawson. I am sending this distress signal because our facility has been attacked; we have already lost two-thirds of our staff. We are running low on supplies and will not be able to hold out much longer, we are requesting immediate assistance. Coordinates are as follows…"_

Ashley was standing off to the side, her arms crossed. "It could be a trap, sir."

"Pressley, play it again."

Pressley obeyed his order. It was not until half way through the brief recording did Shepard catch what he was looking for. "Pause it."

Pressley did. The Navigator looked up at his superior officer with confusion.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, first looking to his XO and then to Ashley, they both shook their heads. "It was the sound of whimpering."

"Whimpering, sir?" asked Pressley.

"Yes, you know someone does it when they're either hurt or scared."

"I know what whimpering is," replied Pressley, quickly amending his reply, "I mean, sir."

"It could still be a trap, sir," Ashley suggested, stubbornly clinging to her earlier theory.

"No, it isn't Chief," He politely rebuked. "What would Cerberus gain?"

"Revenge on us," Ashley answered without hesitation. "They want vengeance for shutting down their other cells."

"Cerberus works in the shadows, Chief Williams," Shepard explained. "By kidnapping or killing the first human Spectre, they would expose their research. Not to mention lose precious resources and financial funding with my death."

"They could be rogue," Ashley claimed.

Shepard wasn't convinced. The whimpering he heard was genuine. The accented voice of this Miranda Lawson was laced in distress. "No, they are in serious danger."

"Commander, you can't be serious!"

He ignored Ashley's insubordination for the moment, turning his attention to his wisely silent XO. "Pressley can you give me a projected ETA to the system?"

"One moment, Commander," Pressley said respectfully, bringing his attention back to the console, while he typed on the terminal, a highlighted route appeared on the Galaxy Map. "Four hours, sir."

"Joker?"

"Yes, Commander?" the pilot asked through the Command Deck speakers. "I take it we got new coordinates, sir?"

"We do."

"Good, Commander, because I didn't get enough of the scary shit that Cerberus exposed us to last time."

Shepard smiled at his pilot's musings, but his smile turned into a frown when he turned to look down at Ashley. He didn't mind when his crew voiced their opinion, but openly questioning his orders in front of the Command Deck crew was not the time or place.

"Do not try to undermine my command again, Chief Williams."

Her shoulders slumped at the dress down, but she was disciplined enough to meet his stare in order to give him a crisp salute. "I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again."

"That's all, Chief," he dismissed, satisfied with her response, he didn't give her a second glance, returning his attention to the highlighted route that lit up the Galaxy Map. His thoughts led him to the distress signal and the voice who gave it. _Miranda Lawson, _he mused, deep down, he knew that this mission was not going to be like the other missions he had been on. But then again, they never are, when Cerberus is involved.

-I will Rise-

It had been nearly four hours, since _The Normandy_ had picked up the Cerberus distress signal. The ship's Commander was currently riding the galaxy's slowest elevator in the galaxy's most state-of-the-art warship. It was obvious to the disgruntled Shepard that elevator speed or convenience was not considered when this ship was put together. _It's probably a turian design, _he mused, referring to the Turian Hierarchy who co-funded this ship with the Alliance.

_Slow elevator speeds would heighten morale or combat readiness, or battle discipline,_ he postulated with a bored wave of his hand. Trying to figure out a half-assed reason of why _the Normandy's_ elevators were so damn slow. _Slow elevators it's definitely an alien design, _recalling the very slow elevators on the Citadel station.

_Bing, _the elevator door slid open and a restless Commander was quick to step off. He had come to the lowest level of _the Normandy_, because Joker had just reported that they should be entering the planet's atmosphere in ten minutes. It was time for the Commander to prepare the drop team and the Mako. Since Cerberus would likely be involved in this mission, Shepard decided to bring full strength-Wrex, Garrus, Tali, and Ashley would be accompanying him.

Kaidan and Liara had not been given medical clearance from Chakwas. Liara was still woozy from the mind melding she had with Shepard in retrieving and making sense of the Cipher, Shepard had been given by the asari on Feros. Kaidan was plagued with a nasty bout of migraines. He had his suspicions this particular bout had come due in large part to what had happened on Feros with the colonists.

However, Shepard gave his orders to the two remaining squad members, that if he and his team did not return in the agreed upon time. They would come down to the planet with a handful of Marines and send out a message to the Council, in case the worst should happen.

Shepard entered the hangar, and was quick to locate his entire squad. They were hovering around the Mako. They were spread out. There was no conversation between them. Each one was acting as if they were the only ones waiting by the Mako. He let out a breath at the disunity in front of him. He got along with each of them rather well. But for some reason or another, his squad had yet to mesh into a cohesive unit off the battlefield.

He cleared his throat, signaling his presence. Four heads turned in his direction, but it was the krogan mercenary who was the first to greet the human Spectre.

"Bout time Shepard."

Shepard offered Wrex, a friendly shrug. The two had slowly formed a mutual respect for the other, during the various missions they had fought in side by side. Shepard was sure that this respect stretched into friendship, after helping the gruff krogan in securing the armor of his ancestors. However, Shepard knew Wrex well enough to know that the krogan would never admit or acknowledge any sort of friendship between the two.

"Shepard, the Mako is ready for action," informed Garrus.

Shepard nodded to the turian. He had formed a quick friendship with the former C-Sec officer. The bonds of their friendship only strengthening when the two confronted the twisted, Doctor 'Heart,' and his assortment of mutated test subjects. After going through one of the doctor's labs, Shepard wasn't sure if he would ever rid his mind of the sight of the mutilated bodies with its rotting flesh, twisted shapes, torn muscles, and exposed innards…

"I take it you are driving?" He asked, noticing the turian was standing in front of the pilot seat door.

"After what you pulled on the Prothean Skyway," Garrus chuckled. "Yeah, I think I'll be doing the driving for now on." His remarked stirred life with the others, Wrex let out a deep, rumbling laugh. Ashley let loose a small smile from her tightly controlled hardened expression, while the young quarian known as Tali giggled at the jab.

Shepard let out a dramatic sigh, silently wondering if he was ever going to live down that mistake. With that one incident, he could never drive the Mako again? To be fair, he had almost driven the Mako off of the Skyway on Feros when he mistook the hydraulic jump for the missile launcher.

"That's fine; I only wanted to drive the Mako once, anyways."

"Mission accomplished then, Commander," Garrus joked, his small blue eyes shimmering with mirth.

It was Tali who stood up to defend him. "In his defense, the Mako on Feros was of a different design then this one."

Shepard smiled at the young quarian. Thankful for her kind hearted defense. He considered Tali to be the younger sister he never had. The one he desperately wished and hoped for growing up on frigates and Alliance bases because of his parents who were Alliance Officers.

The young quarian engineer was enamored by every facet of the ship, her knowledge and quick understanding of the ship had impressed the experienced and hardened Engineer Adams as well as Shepard. After helping her complete her pilgrimage he was very happy that she had decided to stay on-board _the Normandy_ and continue the fight against Saren and the geth.

"Okay, let's file in," Shepard ordered.

It was a tight squeeze into the Mako, especially since it wasn't designed for alien passengers or even any passenger as large as Wrex. Who had elbowed his way towards the Mako's cannon in the back. Garrus had already camped himself out in the driver's seat, while Ashley took the seat next to him, as navigator and co-pilot. Shepard and Tali took to the back seats, separated by the large krogan manning the Mako's powerful turret and cannon.

"So what kind of planet is this, Shepard?" asked Wrex.

Shepard turned to Ashley. It had been her job to research the planet. By also making Ashley answer the question, he was hoping to encourage banter between his squad. All of the conversations tended to go through him.

"Frozen wasteland, Skipper, nothing but snow and hail," Ashley frowned."Why can't we ever be called to a nice planet, with a beach?"

Shepard laughed, silently agreeing with the Chief's blunt but honest assessment. They did seem to have an act to travel to planets that were mostly barren deserts or tundras or mountainous wastelands.

"A beach would be nice," he concluded.

"A beach?" asked Tali, the quarian who was raised not on a planet, but on her people's space faring fleet. She turned to Ashley in hopes for an explanation.

"Yeah, you know the beach," Ashley answered, as if by merely repeating the term would serve a nice enough explanation to the curious quarian. "You can go swimming, tan, build sand castles, and other…beach stuff."

"It sounds like a human thing," commented Garrus.

"It sounds like a dumb thing," added Wrex.

"Oh, I don't know Wrex, building sand castles can be a lot of fun."

Wrex chortled, "I'll pass Shepard."

The conversation ended when Joker radioed confirmation that they arrived at the drop point, giving them the green light to drop. Shepard watched the hangar doors open in front of him. The Mako was immediately assaulted by the powerful gusts of snowfall.

Garrus carefully drove the Mako at the edge of the Normandy's opening, before hitting the throttle; The Mako drove out of the hangar. Shepard's stomach immediately lurched while the Mako continued to freefall through the planet's atmosphere. He was pleased that the snow obstructed their view as they descended, since Shepard never liked watching the ground below them rapidly approach.

Ashley's voice cut through the silence of the Mako, "Landing in four-three-two-one." On cue, the Mako's accelerator's roared to life, allowing it to gracefully touch down on the barren tundra.

"Have you locked onto the signal?"

"Yes, Skipper. I'm programming it into the navi-computer now."

"ETA Garrus?"

"Ten minutes, Shepard."

"Good, alert Joker and Pressley that our landing was successful."

"No need to come down to scrape our corpses," commented a grim Wrex.

Silence filled the Mako afterwards; it was not a good sign for Shepard. He was hoping that this mission could bring some unity with his companions. They didn't have to be best friends, but any sort of dialogue or communication would be accepted by the Commander at this point. However, as they drove across the tundra, the only noise that could be discerned was the howling winds, and the fall of hail onto the Mako.

"We are coming up on the Cerberus facility, Skipper."

"Where is it?" asked Shepard, peaking out the front window, but saw very little in any direction. It was a miracle that Garrus could successfully and safely drive this vehicle in these conditions.

"It's on the left."

"Ease on the acceleration Garrus," Shepard instructed.

"Will do Shepard," Garrus affirmed, before turning his head, and adding. "Don't worry I won't mistake the missile launcher as the brakes."

The turian's quip unified the aloof squad into a mirthful atmosphere, with the trio laughing amongst one another.

"Hah-hah Garrus keep this up and I might leave you here."

"Testy Commander," Garrus called over his shoulder, as the Mako eased to a halt in front of a circular one level building which closely nestled itself along the edge of a high drop-off.

"Wrex?"

"No hostiles Shepard, too bad."

Shepard fastened his helmet, his assault rifle in his lap. He turned to the others, their helmets were strapped and they were favoring their own weapons. "Let's move out," he ordered, his voice carrying through the comm. system that was linked through their helmets. The doors of the Mako opened and the four squad-members were immediately greeted with the howling winds, snowfall, and the hail as they scrambled the short distance to the facility and the small crevice that hung over the entrance. It provided them a small refuge from the planet's conditions while Tali began hacking through the security console.

Thankfully, the squad didn't have to wait long, as the talented quarian was able to quickly bypass through the system, the doors opening in front of them. He took the quickness of the hacking with the combination of Tali's skill and the knowledge of the other Cerberus facilities that they had come across and hacked.

Shepard was first to walk into the anteroom, his rifle raised while he scanned around the room for any sign of hostiles. The room was empty of people, only containing crates that were stacked four to five high, which lined the walls. There was no sign of combat, death, or invasion in the eerily calm room. But Shepard knew looks could be deceiving, noticing a terminal on the far side of the wall.

"Tali, can you see if you can recharge the terminal, to see what happened here?"

"Will do Shepard," Tali confirmed, heading over to the terminal, while the others milled around the room, weapons raised, and prepared for action.

"Smells like a trap," Ashley stated.

"It's always quiet before a storm," Wrex observed solemnly. He held his shotgun in a tight grip.

"So let's stay alert."

"No need to tell me twice, Shepard," Garrus replied, walking over to the terminal and Tali, cradling his assault rifle.

"Shepard, I found something," Tali called over her shoulder.

"What is it Tali?" asked Shepard, joining Tali and Garrus at the terminal, while Ashley and Wrex stood behind them.

"I think I found the location of the survivors," she answered, before amending, "If there are any."

"Until we know otherwise, we act as if there are survivors that need rescuing," Shepard instructed his squad.

"Great," Ashley mumbled under her breath. "Let's go risk our asses to save some terrorists from their own experiments."

"Chief Williams," Shepard said in a clipped tone.

She instinctively straightened up, before bowing her head in apology.

Satisfied, that Ashley got the message, Shepard turned back to Tali. "What's their location?"

"Through this room, we should come to a stairwell that should lead us to the facilities safe-room."

"That is if we don't run into what chased them in there," noted Garrus.

Wrex chuckled. "That would just be our luck."

Shepard smiled. "So what are we waiting for?"

"Our brave leader to lead the way."

Shepard ignored Garrus 'jab so that he could take point, the others filing behind him as they carefully made their way through the doors that would lead them deeper into the facility. The door sensing his presence, slid open to reveal a long stretch of empty corridor, the only light coming from the dim flashing of the overhead lights that were not shattered.

"Right here, Commander," Tali pointed out after the squad had taken a few steps into the facility. She walked in front of Shepard, her omni-tool glowing as she waved it in front of the wall of the corridor. "The entrance is hidden."

"Smart," Shepard praised, watching the once camouflage door, slide open, revealing a dimly lit spiraling staircase. "Lights," he said, going to his omni-tool, and entering the command.

Each squad member had lights wired into their suits that were placed on their shoulders on pivots so that they could rotate to provide maximum coverage. With the lights from the squad's suits on, their path was better illuminated as Shepard descended down the stairwell, cautious and alert for the first sign of trouble.

"We got bodies," Shepard called over his shoulder, noticing three bodies lay at the bottom of the stairs. It was a gruesome sight. The bodies lay in a pool of blood; deep lacerations had been made on the face, throat, and torso.

He looked up to see the bodies were laid in front a thick steel door. It seemed these three had been in the unfortunate position of being locked out of the safe-room, when it was sealed.

He turned to Ashley. "Still think they deserve their fate?"

She avoided his stare, and the corpses at her feet, instead she tightened her grip on her assault rifle.

"I thought the door was hidden," Wrex observed.

"It was," Tali put in.

"Then what happened to them?" Garrus asked, gesturing to the bodies at his feet with his rifle.

Shepard frowned, looking around the small corridor that was formed from the stairwell to the door's entrance. The length and width of the room could barely comfortably hold Shepard and his squad, who were huddled at the entrance of the safe-room.

"Be prepared," Shepard said, his eyes lingering on a roof panel that had slipped from its position.

"They were so close," Tali said with a note of sympathy in her voice as she looked down at the bodies.

"They must have heard them knocking. They should have let them in," Ashley growled.

"No, they shouldn't have," Shepard argued. "If you let them in, then you risk the life of everyone in the room. The sacrifice of these three to save the others within, it was the right choice to make."

"Then let's get these doors opened," Ashley retorted sarcastically, "So that you can congratulate the one in charge."


	3. 2: Disturbance

**I will Rise**

**By: Spectre4hire**

**Chapter Two: Disturbance**

_Six people…_

Miranda mused on the number of survivors that remained in the facility. Six people were alive when the staff was nearly sixty strong before the attack. She stood alone, in a respective corner of the Safe Room, while the five others huddled together on the far end of the room.

The Safe Room was no larger than the Mess Hall. Crates of food and water were stacked five crates high along one of the walls. Theoretically it should be enough food and water for at least two-three months. A weapon locker was positioned in another corner, stocked with Cerberus grenades, rifles, and pistols, with only a few rounds for each weapon. A defunct terminal was tucked away in another corner. This terminal was supposed to be their means of communication to the outside world, but now it served as little purpose as decorative.

Two of the surviving security guards looked up from their crouched positions to shoot her a dark look before turning back to the others where they continued their murmuring. She knew why she was receiving such looks. She knew that she was the center of what they were whispering to themselves.

When Miranda and the assistant arrived in the Safe Room, with their current company, she immediately sealed the room and issued the appropriate lockdown procedure. She was not going to unnecessarily risk her life on a fool's hope or whim that other survivors could reach them before the creepers or rachni did. It was not ten minutes into the lockdown, that hasty knocking and frantic begging could be heard from the other side of the door. The others in the room, begged her to open the door, but she refused, because only she alone knew the code to bypass the lockdown procedure that was put in place.

It was a decision she thought was justified when no more than a minute had passed that those outside were attacked and presumably killed by the creepers or rachni. She was unashamed of what she had to do. The survivors who now glowered and glared at her were hypocrites, whose fears and frustrations were fanned at the hopelessness of the situation. Thankfully, Miranda had the capability of keeping a level head. She poised herself on logic, not emotions. If she had been emotional and not logical about the decision, then she would have opened the door, and which case they all would have been killed.

The dim emergency flashing lights were giving her a headache. She closed her eyes, trying to find some inward refuge of what had befallen her and her remaining staff. She was frustrated. She wanted to know what had caused the creepers to go berserk. After months of being docile servants for them to suddenly rebel and tear apart the facility in less than fifteen minutes was unsettling for the Cerberus Director.

She was stuck within this Safe Room, with no means of trying to research what had happened, and no way of being able to properly assess the problem and provide a means of fixing what had been undone. It was a strenuous position for her.

Suddenly, a low hissing broke through Miranda's thoughts. She immediately opened her eyes, recognizing the sound at once. It was coming from the door. Someone was trying to get in. She knew it was impossible for the rachni or the creepers to bypass the door's codes and the Cerberus security protocols that kept the Safe Room secure.

The five other survivors were talking animatedly with one another, looking up at the door with hopeful eyes, and not so silent pleas, believing their prayers have been answered. Miranda did not; she knew that whoever was behind that door trying to get in was not a Cerberus assigned team. If this was a rescue from her organization then they would have known the appropriate codes to bypass the security system. They were trying to hack their way into the systems.

She instinctively raised her pistol just as the door hissed open. She had no immediate shot since the survivors clamored to the entrance like giddy children. She was annoyed and embarrassed at how this Cerberus staff was behaving. Even with the clamoring of the survivors, she noticed the handful of intruders step into the Safe Room.

The first thing that she noticed was the mixed company- Two humans and three aliens. The Cerberus staff had predictably gone to the two humans, talking rapidly, asking questions or heaving thanks on to the two humans for arriving when they did.

Miranda stepped forward, clearing her throat. She ignored the scowls and glares from her fellow survivors, who reluctantly parted to allow the two humans to step forward, while the three aliens remained at the door's entrance, weapons in hand.

One human was obvious female if her pink armor was anything to go by. Not to mention the slight curves that was easily recognized behind the bulky scorpion armor. No patches, marks, signs, or colors of any mercenary coalition on the woman's armor. When Miranda's eyes turned to the other human, her eyes immediately drifted to the N7 patch on the chest plate. She looked up to see he had a matching N7 helmet with a tinted visor, that made it impossible for her to study his face, but when he spoke she immediately recognized who he was so, as did everyone else in the room.

"Are you in charge here?"

Miranda blinked. If not for her complete control of her emotions, she would no doubt be openly gaping at the first human Spectre who stood in front of her.

"I am, Doctor Miranda Lawson."

Shepard nodded, but it was the woman next to him who spoke. "It seems like your legacy speaks for itself." The female soldier was gesturing to the corpses at the door.

Miranda didn't bristle at the criticism. "I did what was necessary to ensure the survivors of those in this room."

"You made the right choice," Shepard's voice cut through the dissenting whispers from the survivors.

Miranda allowed herself a small satisfying smirk when she saw the survivors open jaws, and blank stares at the response given from their supposed savior and hero.

"I'm Commander John Shepard and this is Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams," Shepard introduced. He then turned his head and pointed to the aliens, who Miranda could now see were one quarian, turian, and krogan. "This is Tali, Garrus, and Wrex."

_What odd company, _she thought to herself. When she first saw the mixed company of aliens and humans, she had suspected mercenaries or pirates. Not in a hundred guesses would she suspect such a mix company belonged to the former Alliance-Poster-Boy and first human Spectre.

One of the survivors spoke up. Miranda recognized the frazzled woman to be the assistant who she saved. "How did you break our code?"

"We were already familiar with it," answered Shepard casually.

Ashley snorted. "It's hard not to be after raiding three of these bases."

It was clear to Miranda that this Ashley was Anti-Cerberus. Looking closer at the woman's stance and armor, Miranda was sure that this Ashley was also in the Alliance. No doubt, she was indoctrinated with the glory of the Alliance and the villainy of Cerberus.

"So then you're aware of this dangerous situation," Miranda remarked, falling back into her role as the aloof Cerberus Project Director.

"We're aware of your illegal experimentations on Thorian creepers and rachni," Shepard stated. "I can only guess that your distress signal is linked with some sort of botched experimentation."

She chose to ignore the sarcasm in his tone. "Yes, well we can thank our current state to the creepers. They had been docile servants during our studies these past few months."

"Had been?" asked Shepard.

She nodded, "Yes, had been. However, for no explained reason they suddenly became very aggressive, slaughtering most of our co-workers in minutes."

When she finished speaking, she noticed the first human Spectre was sharing a look with his other squad members. They seemed to be having some sort of conversation amongst themselves without the need of words. She also deduced that it was Shepard who was sharing these 'conversations' with the others, when he was finished with his squad, his attention returned to her.

"Do you know when it happened?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she answered, seeing him nodding his head, brought her to raise an eye brow. "Why?"

"I think I know why your creepers went berserk."

She bit down a sarcastic reply of wanting to ask when he had studied creature behavior when she saw the seriousness in his eyes. "Alright, I'm listening."

"I recently was on Feros and upon discovering an ancient Thorian fauna life form; I was forced to kill it." She was taken aback at how causal he sounded. This was not a man who was boasting his accomplishments; he was speaking in a trivial tone as if his deeds were mundane and not at all remarkable.

She pushed aside her assessment on his tone, since they were irrelevant. She pondered his answer, she was already aware of the link between the Thorian plant and its creepers, but she had been put under the belief that they had been able to break that link. Perhaps the scientists who boasted the fact had made a terrible calculation, and had been mistaken all along about the link.

"I believe you could be right."

He took her admission with a nod, before turning to the others to give orders. "It looks like we have to clear the facility."

"Oh goody, another Cerberus spill we get to clean up," muttered Ashley sarcastically.

Miranda's distaste and annoyance with this particular Alliance soldier only grew with each passing comment the soldier made. However, Miranda had spent many years around unsavory personalities and was perfectly capable of ignoring them. She had no need to defend Cerberus, nor would she waste her breath with a soldier who was clearly taught and trained to think whatever the Alliance told them to think.

"It would be smart if you stayed here, until we're sure the facility is safe again," he calmly instructed.

The Cerberus survivors still in a bit of awe to be in the Commander's presence, all bobbled their heads up and down. Unlike her cowering employees, Miranda knew she had a job to do and it didn't involve her hiding in a Safe Room and waiting this crisis out.

"I'm not staying in here."

Shepard turned to her, she was sure that not many turned down his orders. "You are a civilian-"

She cut him off with a harmless laugh. "Bullshit Commander, we both know I'm not a civilian. Cerberus doesn't need civilians, they need experts. You will need my help if you wish to navigate your way through this facility."

He frowned, looking slightly annoyed that he had been cut off but even in his annoyance, she could tell that he was studying her closely. "How exactly can you assist us Miss…?"

"Lawson, Miranda Lawson," Miranda answered, a bit annoyed that he had forgotten her name. "I'm the Project Director of this facility. I not only know the layouts of this facility but I also have the codes that can purge this facility, wiping out all of our problems."

"I take it, you won't hand over the codes?" he smirked.

"Sorry Commander, we are a packaged deal," she replied, resisting the urge to smile triumphantly.

He slowly nodded, "very well. You can come with us."

"Sir, but-"

"Not now Williams," Shepard cut into the Alliance soldier's protest. He turned back to Miranda. "It looks like we're going to need to play nice if we want to get out of here."

"What about the rest of us?" asked one of the Cerberus survivors-a woman. "Won't this purge kill us too?"

Miranda could feel every eye in the room on her. "The purging system is only wired to the three separate facilities that housed the rachni and creepers."

"What about us?" asked the turian. "Aren't we going to be forced to breathe in this toxin?"

"Garrus has a point," Shepard agreed.

"I can remotely detonate it, or put a timer on the purge. That would give us enough time to evacuate the facilities."

"Why don't we just evacuate these traitors, bomb the facility and turn them over to the Alliance," Ashley suggested darkly.

"How do you propose we evacuate?" asked Miranda, her years of working with difficult people, kept her tone neutral.

"We have a ship," answered Ashley.

"Which I am sure will tell you that it won't be able to land for the next several hours," Miranda paused. "Or we can actively shut down this facility, which will allow us to hunker down here to wait our pick up without having to worry about rachni and creepers tearing us apart."

The krogan chortled. "I'm with the Cerberus flunkie."

"She's right, if we just wait here, then it will be easy pickings for those creepers," Shepard decided. "We'll go with Miss Lawson's plan."

The other squad members immediately nodded, accepting the Commander's decision. The Alliance soldier hesitated before giving him a crisp salute.

Miranda went over to the weapon locker to pick up two pistols, and a round of grenades. She heard the Commander give the remaining Cerberus survivors strict orders to remain in the safe room.

She couldn't help but wonder how she had gotten herself into this situation. She was teaming up with the Alliance-Poster-Boy, to destroy a very expensive Cerberus investment. She wasn't sure if she should be thankful or annoyed with how these events unfolded before her.

"Alright, Miss Lawson where do we need to go?" asked Shepard, his tone civil and businesslike.

"There are two main computers there is one in facility One and the other in Facility Three. We will need to activate the vents in both facilities to successfully purge the base."

"So in other words we need to split up?" asked Ashley.

"That would be the wisest way to go about this mission."

"But only you have the codes," observed Shepard.

"Yes, I can send the codes through my omni-tool to another when they arrive at the other facility."

"Then that's what we'll do," Shepard agreed, leading his squad and Miranda Lawson out of the Safe Room where the remaining Cerberus survivors wished Shepard and his team good luck before Tali sealed the door.

"So what are the teams, Shepard?" grumbled the krogan.

Shepard looked around his squad before his eyes fell on Miranda. "That depends on Miss Lawson's set of skills."

"I am a powerful biotic and skilled in tech warfare. I can also hold my own in any fire fight," she remarked, gesturing to the hand cannon in her hand.

"You sure don't lack for confidence," replied an amused Shepard.

Miranda shrugged, "just giving you an honest evaluation."

"Only time and action will tell," muttered Ashley off to the side.

"Then I will lead team one with Miss Lawson and Garrus," Shepard instructed."Team two will be led by Wrex and include Ashley and Tali."

Ashley looked wearily at the krogan, before peeling her eyes away from the krogan and back to Shepard. "Very well, sir."

She noticed how the Alliance soldier stared warily at the quarian and even longer on the krogan. Miranda's years in Cerberus and her years in training gave her the ability to easily read people' expressions and she could tell that this Ashley was a bit reserved or put off with her alien companions. _How very interesting, and they say we are the bigoted ones? _She mused with a shake of her head at the clear hypocrisy between the Alliance and Cerberus.

The squad had silently gone up the stairs and carefully walked along the corridor that would split off into the two corridors that would lead to Facility One and Three. They walked in a tight convoy, weapons out, and alert for any sign or hint of danger, but they were only greeted with silence. The group soon arrived at the destination where they would split off.

"What facility are we going to?" Shepard asked, turning to Miranda.

"Facility One," she answered. She didn't need to tell him that was where the mainframe was, or that she could also extract vital information from the facility before it was destroyed. Vital information that could help Cerberus in future projects.

"That means you guys get facility three," he said turning back to the others. "Stay in contact."

When his second squad gave him affirmative nods, he turned back to Miranda awaiting her instructions.

"Ours is down this corridor," she said motioning to the one on the left. "It will be easy enough to find."

"What about ours?"

"If you get lost just follow the signs," answered Miranda, noting the scowl on the soldier's face at her tone. She turned away from the Alliance soldier and back to the human Spectre watching him silently while he conversed with the second squad.

Miranda was surprised by how easily he talked with the krogan and how the krogan seemed to be polite and actually sounded like he respected him. It made her wonder that perhaps part of the hero worship and praise that was heaped on Shepard was not too far off. She knew there must be more to the Alliance legend then the heroic vids and the dozens of articles and books written about his accomplishments at Elysium, and Torfan.

It was clear the man had a certain aura about him that demanded respect and obedience. She wasn't sure if it was just natural charisma that he always possessed or was it something that took him years to build. Curious with the conversation between human Spectre and krogan, she listened in, and was amazed to realize the two were actually joking with one another!

"Don't make me regret picking you as the leader Wrex," Shepard joked.

Wrex chortled, "Don't worry Shepard; I won't get your squad killed."

Shepard smiled, though his eyes continued to survey the area around them. "Good because it reflects poorly on a Commander if his squad is killed in action."

"I will lead them like they're my own," Wrex affirmed.

Shepard seemed pleased by this and offered the krogan a firm nod before turning to the quarian and soldier, whom if memory served Miranda their names would be Tali and Ashley.

Miranda believing a proper way to gauge the first human Spectre was to see his interactions with his squad. Through their tone alone Miranda immediately confirmed her earlier hypothesis that those who came across Shepard were easily respected and enamored by him and these two were no different. They both spoke in tones of respect and Miranda was sure she could sense a bit of awe in Tali's voice which Miranda found strange. If she didn't know any better she would have thought the quarian may have a crush on him.

A similar expression did not go unnoticed with Ashley whose eyes betrayed the genuine interest if not outright affection the Alliance soldier seemed to hold for the Commander. Miranda was amused at the 'by the book' Alliance soldier's infatuation with her Commander something that clearly went against Alliance protocol. It caused the Cerberus Director to wonder would the loyal soldier betray her beloved Alliance just to get closer to Shepard?

She then turned to Shepard, looking for any sign or expression that could give her any tip towards his own feelings he had for the two females, but he remained stoic. She was unable to get a beat on him, causing a small frown to appear on her lips. She rarely was unable to make a read on someone. It made her only more frustrated and curious in him.

"So how many rachni and creepers are we looking at?"

The turian's question interrupted her musings. She turned to regard him. "A few dozen of each, I suppose."

He nodded, "sounds like you guys were breeding platoons."

She didn't flinch at the truth of his words; instead she simply stared back at him, comfortable behind her mask of indifference and icy demeanor. She was not about to divulge Cerberus secrets or strategies with a turian.

"Alright you two, lets head out," Shepard had re-joined them, and holding out his rifle ushered Miranda and the turian to follow him as they went deeper into the dimly lit corridor that would lead them to Facility One.

* * *

><p>Silence, Miranda Lawson usually loved silence. She encouraged silence, since it allowed herself to better concentrate. To her, silence was golden. However, at this very moment, she found the silence to be irritating. The silence was for once killing her.<p>

She was walking closely behind Commander John Shepard and his turian companion, Garrus. They had been walking down a narrow, deserted corridor for nearly ten minutes. There had been no signs of either creeper or rachni and in that time Shepard and Garrus operated in complete silence.

Miranda found herself with so many questions that she wanted to ask the first human Spectre. She had always been a keen one, observant, craving to know about those who she surrounded herself with. She wanted to know how the famous man in front of her ticked, what made him go. What were his thoughts on not just her organization, his current mission, his past missions, of the Galaxy, of the Alliance?

She wanted to dissect his mind, not knowing if she would ever get such a chance again. No matter how many questions seeped to the forefront of her mind, Miranda Lawson remained silent. No matter how curious she was, she was also a woman on a mission. She prided herself on accomplishing the missions she was tasked to do and this one was no different, besides being in the company of the first Human Spectre.

A sudden guttural cry snapped Miranda from her silent reverie as she instinctively called on her biotics. Her body enveloped in blue energy, her pistol raised when she located the threat. A pack of creepers in the room beside their corridor, the door had slid open once Miranda had passed. They were surrounding a mangled human corpse that was in a pool of its own blood, large chunks of flesh had been torn off, bones had been forcibly removed and were scattered around the room.

The scene made Miranda come to a very mortifying decision. _They had been eating it!_

Miranda's stomach lurched at this discovery. She could see blood dribbling down the sickly gray faces of the creepers, accompanied with bits of flesh which speckled their chins and cheeks. Resisting the urge to empty her stomach right there, she opened fire before the creepers could even advance.

Her first round tore through the closest creeper, blasting off its left arm at the elbow as well as putting several holes into its chest. Non-pulsed at their companion's demise, the others were quick to advance on her.

Shepard and Garrus, who had already passed the room, entered in the room behind her when she fired the first bullets. They immediately flanked her, with their rifles raised, opened fire into the room.

The sound of gunfire and guttural cries and moans filled the room, as the bullets from all three guns tore through the advancing creepers in seconds. Sickly, sappy blood sprayed the walls behind the creepers, chunks of flesh and body parts showered the room in a disgusting array of colors and smells. The fight was over before it began. The small pack of creepers had been no match for the advance fire power that they carried.

Miranda looked herself up and down, pleased to note that she had not been splashed by neither blood nor creeper flesh in the fight. Holstering her pistol, she looked around the room which was now splattered in creeper innards and blood.

"Is that a human?" asked Garrus, signaling to the corpse in the room.

Miranda inwardly groaned at the reminder of what she had seen before fighting broke out between herself and the creepers. She watched a tentative Shepard make his way across the room.

"It looks like they tore this person apart."

"Why?" asked Garrus.

"They were eating it," Miranda said, her voice barely carried over a whisper at the sick declaration. She could feel both pair of eyes on her, not wanting to look at either the corpse or them, she kept her eyes closed and continued. "I saw them eating the corpse when I first walked by."

"Eating it?" repeated Shepard.

She could hear the disgust in his tone and she nodded. She finally opened her eyes, to see Shepard was stoic, his expression unreadable but his eyes were on her. Not wanting to be under his stare, because of the feelings it seemed to stir within her, she turned to Garrus whose mandibles were twitching in what she thought was a clear sign of revulsion.

"I didn't know they ate flesh," Garrus finally said.

"Neither did we," Miranda admitted. She mentally looked back on all the studies they had put the creepers through, and this particular, nasty bit of information had never come up. She had guessed that the docile servants didn't need food to function because of the comatose-like state they were in. What she just witnessed seconds ago, clearly made her rethink her previous evaluations.

"They didn't on Feros either," Shepard observed, shifting uncomfortably near the corpse before he took a few steps back. "Then again we didn't keep any of the ones we came in contact with alive."

"For obvious reasons," Garrus added.

Miranda wasn't sure if that was a slight on her or not, regardless she let it pass, since she was far more interested in what Shepard had said. "Feros? Is that where you found the Thorian?"

She did not waver when she found herself under his gaze. She could see the emotions behind his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Yes, we encountered the Thorian on Feros. It had indoctrinated the colonists and Exo-Geni knew about it and did nothing!"

Miranda wanted to step back from the fiery Spectre but she wouldn't allow herself to. Another part of her was instantly ensnared by the passion and charisma that was on display in his tone.

"Watching those innocent colonists turn into creepers," Shepard took a deep breath, and Miranda was amazed at his ability to speak without his tone wavering. She was sure that it must have been a terrible ordeal to witness on Feros, but he remained his stoic self.

"So why were you on Feros if you discovered the Thorian so late into your mission?"

Shepard didn't reply, he instead gestured for them to leave the room. He and Garrus were the first to step out of the room; she followed a few steps behind. Disappointment beginning to swell at him for ignoring her question, but the feeling immediately dissipated at his next words.

"We were there because of the geth."

"The geth?" repeated a surprised Miranda. She had known that they had exited the Veil and were being spotted in numerous systems but her time and focus on this facility made it difficult for her to follow the various Cerberus reports that detailed the geth's activity.

"Yeah, they were looking for the Thorian," answered Garrus.

"What? Why?" asked Miranda, puzzled and curious of why these machines would be looking for an ancient fauna life form.

"It's not important," Shepard cut in, turning to Garrus.

Miranda could tell that he was not pleased with Garrus' slip up. She immediately filed the information a way, for further research.

"What became of the colonists?"

"We killed them, all of them."

"I suppose you had to," she agreed, "After all, they had become thralls of the Thorian."

She wasn't sure if she gave the right answer or not. She was sure this supposed Paragon of the Alliance would scold her for being so dismissive about the death of so many innocent civilians, but instead all he did was nod in agreement.

"It was a tough call," Garrus agreed.

Miranda could detect a hint of uncertainty in the turian's voice, making her believe that there was more to Feros then what Shepard had revealed. She suspected that it centered around the choice of killing the civilians, if she could put any weight to the turian's tone and comments on Shepard's decision.

"It was the only call," Shepard replied, his tone firm.

The Turian immediately straightened up. "I understand, Commander,"

Miranda sent a questioning glance at the first human Spectre, but he ignored it. She was sure that she was not going to get any further clarification about the incident on Feros.

"Regardless, I trust you made the right choice," she opined, "if your track record is anything to go by."

"Oh?" he asked, curiously looking at her while they walked side by side with Garrus taking point as they continued to walk down the corridor. "I'm not sure many would consider Torfan to be the right choice."

She waved her hand dismissively. "What do you expect from the media, Shepard? All they care for is their next story."

"It wasn't just the media, Miss Lawson," he pointed out.

Miranda Lawson had a suspicion that he was testing her. That he was trying to gauge her own thoughts and opinions in trying to figure how she ticked. She was impressed at how he kept his tone so guarded, but she was confident that inside he was just as curious with her answers as she would be with his. It sometimes took another stoic personality such as herself, to be able to properly read another stoic person such as Shepard.

"The Alliance allowed themselves to bow under political pressure, and be manipulated by the media who were more concerned in disgracing you then reporting on what you successfully accomplished at Torfan."

"It sounds like you approved of what I did then."

"I do," she nodded, "You did what the Alliance asked of you. You didn't ask for risks from your own soldiers that you wouldn't have faced yourself. Your actions on Torfan destabilized future threats from the Batarian Hegemony to further fund mercenaries and pirates in Alliance controlled space." She was inwardly pleased when she finished, that Shepard seemed to be regarding her differently now.

"Huh," he said slowly, "I don't know if I should take your opinion as a compliment or not. A Cerberus Director agreeing with how I handled my unit, I'm not sure that would go down well with the Alliance Brass."

Miranda bit back a sigh and a scathing remark. She should have expected her allegiance to Cerberus to muddle her honest opinion on the mission. "Think what you want about us Shepard, but don't start pretending that the Alliance doesn't have their skeletons."

"I'm aware of the Alliance's past Miss Lawson. I have also not forgotten the origins of your very organization," he paused, his eyes sweeping over her before continuing, "An organization which certainly has earned your loyalty."

"They do," she fervently agreed.

"Makes you wonder what they did to get it."

She was curious with what he was implying, and wondered if he knew how close he was to the crux. She shook off such thoughts as unimportant. They had a job to do and it didn't pertain to these deep discussions with the first human Spectre.

"We got movement up ahead, Commander," Garrus reported.

She immediately brought up her pistol, spotting several creepers coming from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Don't waste your ammo, Miss Lawson. Garrus and I have this-" Shepard instructed turning to his turian friend who nodded.

She stepped forward, ignoring his suggestion, knowing that it was smarter for them not to waste their ammo then hers, especially since she didn't need rifles or pistols to efficiently kill. She called on her biotics, knowing that her position between Shepard and Garrus and the creepers would make it difficult for them to successfully fire on them without hitting her due to the close proximity of the corridor.

Allowing the blue energy to envelop her, she shot up her hand summing a powerful warp that blasted the two creepers. The bodies exploded from the impact, sending dry flesh and sappy blood splattering against the walls. She bit back a sigh, from the strength needed to use the powerful attack, knowing her work wasn't done with the remaining pair of creepers. She called on her biotics, allowing it to envelop the creepers, before lifting them off the ground, they groaned and fought against the biotic energy, but it was to no avail, as she sent them back down, their bodies smashing against their floor with a loud _Splat._

Satisfied, she let loose a tired breath, as the two biotic attacks had drained some of her strength and fortitude. She refused to show any sign of drain, and resisted the urge to lean against the corridor wall to recover and catch her breath. She instead looked back at Shepard and Garrus, not bothering to hide a smirk at what she was able to accomplish without shooting a single shot.

Shepard didn't look impressed, he instead looked annoyed. "Next time follow my instructions, Miss Lawson, or I'll leave you behind," he warned, before walking past her, Garrus on his heels.

She frowned. She wasn't expecting him to praise or gush over what she accomplished, but an acknowledgment of her skill would not have been out of place. She refused to acknowledge the pang of disappointment that strummed within her at his curt comments. There was a sting from his cold words and his threat of leaving her behind. Feelings that rarely resonated within the aloof Cerberus Operative, it was disconcerting for Miranda Lawson.

She found herself wanting to impress the Commander, not disappoint him. She realized that this mission with Shepard was going to get very interesting.


	4. 3: Enigma

**I will Rise**

**By Spectre4hire**

**Chapter Three: Enigma**

_How did he keep falling into these situations?_

Here he was. Humanity's first human Spectre and he was currently serving as a glorified bodyguard, standing guard outside the office of the Project's director. She was currently in her office making necessary uploads onto her omni-tool to efficiently shut down the facility. He was relegated the menial task of pacing the corridor keeping an eye out for any creeper or rachni.

He stopped in his pacing when he stood on the threshold of the office. He looked into the room to see Doctor Lawson had her back turned to him. Her attention was solely focused on the undamaged terminal on her desk. Shepard could only wonder how long it could take to upload these supposed important files and tasks. At her current slow-going rate, he mused if she was penning a memoir.

"Miss Lawson, we need to keep moving." He tried to keep his voice loose but firm.

"I'm almost done," she replied, without even a glance or shift in form…

It was a form that Shepard couldn't help but notice and even admire during their brief time together on this mission. The sleek, black cat-suit she wore hugged and flaunted her stunning figure. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen another woman so beautiful. Yet, even with all of her beauty that was on display, she was nothing but aloof, polarizing, and cold.

_Focus John, _he inwardly chastised himself.

Commander John Shepard prided himself for getting the job done. He was praised for it at Elysium, but was condemned for it at Torfan. The reactions may have been different but not his approach, or his resolve. He got the job done for the Alliance and he was going to get the job done for the Citadel Council. He wasn't here to make fans or win political favors. He was given a task and he was hell bent on completing it. And this mission was no different.

He shot a glance at Garrus whose back was to him, his rifle raised and alert for any creeper or rachni. Shepard looked down his corridor, carefully scanning the silent and empty corridor for the slightest sign of intrusion. Satisfied, that they were alone, he returned his attention to the Cerberus Director.

She had been so accepting, so understanding of his actions of Torfan. It had caught him off-guard. He was not use to people agreeing with him about his choices on Torfan. He was used to people shunning or condemning him. But not her, she accepted what he had to do to clear that base, even when it cost him nearly his entire platoon. She joined a select few individuals. Since Torfan, Shepard could count the number of people on one hand, who vocally approved of his decision.

Not even his parents could accept what he did in that battle. His mother, a fellow Alliance Officer, she casted him, taking every chance she could get to vocally condemn his decisions at Torfan. Doing all she could to distance herself from the Butcher of Torfan. She led a silent vigil, believing the son she knew and loved had died on Torfan. He hadn't spoken to his mother since the fallout of Torfan and had no plans of reestablishing contact with her.

His father had been more supporting. Ben Shepard too is an Alliance Officer, whose response was similar to Admirals Anderson and Hackett. They were not pleased, but they understood that he made the best judgment possible. In the end, he did win the battle. His actions at Torfan, diffused the batarian threat to human colonies in the region. He tried to speak to his father when he could, but communications were sporadic due to their busy work schedules, the most the father and son could achieve was to exchange emails.

"Ogling the enemy?"

Shepard, who had been lost in thought, had forgotten that his blue eyes were transfixed on Doctor Lawson's backside. He looked over to see an amused turian.

"She looks as appealing to me as a slug."

Shepard laughed softly, before shaking his head. He had always got along very well with turians. His interactions with the species were limited, but always successful. He thought it was due to growing up in an environment that encouraged serving in a civil or military role because of his Alliance parents. It was the same approach and creed that turians grew up on and it was a trait that they prided themselves on.

"So what does she do, to give you that glazed over look?" Garrus mused, bringing a talon to his face, scratching at the surface just under his protruded chin. "Hmm, is it her limbs? She does have strong, sinewy limbs. She has good muscle proportion. She seems to ooze discipline and strength."

He didn't know what was more amusing, a turian's perspective on the opposite gender or the actual traits that Garrus seemed to be drawn to. "Careful, it sounds like you're developing your own little crush."

Garrus pretended to gag. "No, sorry, Shepard, I can't do the hair or the soft skin," he paused, looking mildly disgusted at the prospect of romancing a human, but sounding quite amused at teasing Shepard about it. "Your people are too squishy."

"That's too bad, Garrus." Shepard let out a dramatic sigh. "What am I suppose to tell the female crewmen on the Normandy? You had been turning so many heads since you arrived." He paused, taking satisfaction at Garrus' reaction. "The hearts you've broken."

"Hah-hah Shepard," Garrus said, playfully shoving Shepard's shoulder.

"I thought you were supposed to be on watch?"

The accented voice of Cerberus Director Miranda Lawson broke through the banter between Spectre and turian. The two disciplined individuals instinctively straightened up at being called out. It was a difficult habit for either Shepard or Garrus to break after years of military training and service.

Shepard looked up to see she was standing in front of them, favoring them with a calculated look, while the omni-tool on her arm was glowing. "Are you ready to keep moving?"

She gestured to the door, signaling they were blocking the door, making it difficult for her to actually leave the room she was in. Garrus took a few steps back to allow her to pass. She walked out of her office, her pistol already out and held loosely in her hand. She looked ready for a fight.

He could still hear the voice in his head that repeated the same question he had had, since he came into contact with the Cerberus Operative.

"Are you in charge of the other cells?"

"I'm not responsible for the Admiral's death," she answered. "If that's what you're wondering."

He was impressed. She hadn't made the slightest change in her tone or stance to show any defensiveness or signs that could give away she was lying about the subject. She regarded herself perfectly. It was obvious to the Spectre that she was very well trained.

"However, you might be pleased to know that those responsible have been dealt with."

He looked at her. "Dealt with?"

She gave him a thin lipped smile before gesturing to the pistol in her hand. "Yes, dealt with. Cerberus always deals with their loose ends."

"How noble of you," he said sarcastically, "To protect us from your own monsters."

He saw her bristle. He had hit a nerve. He knew she was not pleased at allowing an emotional response to slip past her defenses. "Think what you want about our organization, Commander, but in the end our intentions are simple-"

"Human dominance," interrupted Garrus, revealing his dislike for the organization.

"Preservation," Miranda finished, not sounding the least bit bothered by Garrus' interruption or interpretation of Cerberus.

Shepard could only shake his head at her fervent defense of Cerberus. It seemed she was a firm believer of the organization and their goals. It was clear to him after listening to how she talked about them and how she had earlier defended them against Ashley's accusations.

"You think the Alliance has clean hands?" she asked suddenly. She seemed determined in wanting to defend Cerberus while casting the blame on their creators-the Alliance.

He smiled to himself. He had no problem playing this game. He may have been an Alliance brat, but he wasn't stupid or blindly loyal to them. He expected accountability from those he worked with and the Alliance was no exception.

"I know they don't." He saw the disbelief that flashed in her blue eyes before pushing down the emotion and resorting back to slipping on her mask. He noticed how easily she slipped into that mask, and was sure that it was a defense mechanism. He had been around people with similar habits. He himself kept up plenty of barriers and his own masks to keep people at bay. It became more and more helpful after Torfan.

"I've already cleaned up a few of their messes."

Fresh reminders about the VI on the moon and dismantling the atomic bomb came to his mind. Those were two of the more recent missions he and his squad had done. Shepard shook his head at the idiocy of who ever came up with that plan- launching up a bunch of nukes in satellites. _Yeah, that won't come back to bite us in the ass._

He knew what he said had got her attention. He was sure; she was filing away the information to either pass it along to someone else or to look it up herself. No doubt, she was curious in what he was referencing. She probably had no qualms in digging up dirt on the Alliance.

A lurch and a groan from above caused all thoughts on Miranda Lawson to cease in Shepard's mind, instincts took over. The soldier raised his rifle, pointing it to the ceiling just in time to see two large over-sized grass hoppers land behind him. He saw two others land in front of Garrus and Miranda.

_So these were rachni,_he thought to himself, taking in their insect-like features. They looked like a mix between a grasshopper and a shrimp. They had grasshopper-like legs but shrimp-like body, tendrils, and head.

Shepard opened fire on the nearest rachni. It let out a harsh cry of pain before its torso was torn apart by bullets. Its head and neck severed, allowed the wounded flesh to slide cleanly off the torso. The body remained eerily standing its legs underneath swaying under the deadweight for a second before it toppled over on its side.

The second rachni learned from the first's mistake. It went on the offensive, leaping towards Shepard, its thin legs hitting him square in the chest. The wind knocked out of him and his balance lost, he stumbled backwards trying to remain on his feet from absorbing the attack. It moved in for a second attack, due to the close proximity of the creature, Shepard had to use his rifle like a club, swinging it defensively to stave off the advancing rachni.

The rachni was nimble on its spidery legs, its head bobbing forward and sideways to avoid Shepard's swings. Finally, he was able to land a hit, smashing the butt of his rifle into the head of the rachni it let out a growling hiss, the antennas on its head twitched aggressively. It skittered backwards on its four thin legs.

Shepard wasn't going to give it time for a second attack. He raised his rifle and opened fire on the creature, emptying a round of bullets into its head and body. The blood of the rachni splashed the walls of the corridor as its twitching body slumped to the floor before going still.

Satisfied, that both were dead, he turned just in time to see Garrus peppering one of the two remaining rachni with a round from his assault rifle. The last rachni was enveloped in a biotic field, from Miranda who was glistening with the blue energy. With a quick movement of her hand, the rachni was slammed back down onto the ground. A loud squishing and shriek followed as the body crumpled into the ground, smearing the floor in blood and guts.

He watched as the biotic fields around Miranda disappeared with a crack. Other than a few deep breaths, Miranda seemed back to normal, recovering instantly from the use of her biotics. Shepard had never seen such control or power from a biotic. It was an impressive sight. He hadn't come across many biotics, but those he did seemed to tire themselves and exert their strength and stamina on the battlefield only after a few moves. Not Miranda, she looked to have plenty of fight still in her.

"What were those things?" Garrus's question took Shepard's attention off of Miranda's biotics and back to the rachni corpses that they had surrounded themselves with.

"Rachni soldiers," she answered, casually.

"Smart buggies," Shepard muttered. "They set a trap for us."

"We obviously sprung it," deadpanned Garrus.

"Yes, Rachni are very clever. Their intelligence goes a lot farther then the Citadel Council wanted to give them," Miranda lectured.

"It makes sense," he admitted with a nod. "How else could they have brought the Council to their knees?"

"What about their sheer numbers?" Garrus pointed out.

"No," Shepard shook his head. "That would help, but they would need more than that."

"Very astute, Commander," Miranda said, not bothering to hide her surprise at his observations.

She had underestimated him, he assumed, judging by her tone and how she now was currently looking at him. He was use to surprising people.

Shepard shrugged, "I took as many history courses as I could at the Academy."

"A learned soldier," Miranda surmised, sounding more impressed then she probably wanted to let on. "And here I thought you were just a grunt. Who turned into the Alliance enforcer and been promoted to Council's errand boy."

He would have been more annoyed at her choice of words if her tone had been its usual iciness. But it hadn't been it almost sounded playful. As if she was trying to make a joke. It was an amusing turn of events, and something he replied to in-kind.

He smiled, "I found the library just as fun as the shooting range." He looked up at the split ceiling panel at any sign of rachni reinforcements, but they seemed alone. "We should get going." He didn't want to linger in these corridors. His eyes found hers, she gave him a curt nod, leading them forward, like her, he was careful to step over the remains of the two dead rachnis.

"Those were some biotics," Shepard complimented, walking in step with Miranda while Garrus was walking a step or two behind them. He immediately noticed the sudden stiffness in her posture, but it was short, she quickly relaxed and responded. It had been so quick, it would have been difficult to discern if you weren't looking for it.

"Yes, I was trained to be the best." The temperature in the corridor seemed to plummet from her icy tone.

Shepard frowned. He didn't understand her reaction or response. "I take it, you didn't approve?"

"I didn't have much of a choice," she replied, her tone was becoming increasingly hostile. She was clearly warning him that his line of questions were unwelcome.

"I don't understand," he said, trying to make sense of her situation with what little information he had about her. He was under the impression it was Cerberus who had given her the biotics. "Why are you still with them?"

She turned to face him, scowling, meeting his questioning look with an icy stare. He realized that he stumbled into dangerous, very personal territory, but he wasn't sure what exactly he had said or assumed that led him here. If he had to venture a guess, it was her past, she was trying to hide. Not wanting to fracture their already unsteady relationship, he knew he needed to placate her, if this mission was to be a success.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." It didn't seem to work. She was still scowling at him. "I just didn't know why you would be with the organization that did it to you."

Her stare softened, and her scowl melted into a puzzled frown, her blue eyes looking thoughtful. In that moment, Shepard realized just how beautiful her eyes were. It had been difficult to see before, since she was usually glaring daggers at him, or they were a void of emotion. But not now, they were a window into her heart, into her soul. They were revealing her true emotions. He could see just a little bit of someone, who was obviously in emotional pain before that window was shut and her frosty mask slid back into place.

"Cerberus didn't give me my biotics," she answered, "My father did."

"Your father?" he repeated, believing he had heard wrong. "Why would any parent what to introduce that kind of a pain to their own child?

Miranda let out a cold laugh. That made him increasingly uncomfortable. He was now positive that he had successfully triggered the unsettled emotions from her past.

"I was to be the beginning of a dynasty," she explained bitterly. "The beginning of his dynasty," she scoffed, before gesturing to her body. "My looks, my training, my genetics, my intellect was all tailor made by the best scientists, geneticists, and instructors that money could buy."

He was speechless. None of this was what he had been expecting. He couldn't comprehend how any father could possibly do this to his child. It was morbid, to use your children as templates for your grand delusions of starting a dynasty.

"I was designed to be perfect," she finished, her tone tinged with resignation and bitterness. It seemed she had accepted the role and talents she was given by her father. She was putting them to good use for Cerberus.

To Shepard, it was a sad fate. He couldn't imagine that sort of burden placed on a young child. He didn't know what to say or do, unsure if he should even try to comfort her.

"I see."

"Do you?" she asked, sarcastically. "Do you understand that anything I succeed in, is because of my father? The only thing I can lay claim to are my faults." She raised her hands, gesturing to the corridor, to this facility. "I can claim this mistake as my own."

He inwardly frowned, knowing that he needed to pick his next words very carefully. He knew that no matter what he was going to say that he would be put in the crosshairs of her ire.

"Look at you, the Lion of Elysium, the first human Spectre," she pointed out. "Everything you have earned is because of your skill, will, and talent."

"You're giving your father too much credit," he said delicately. Seeing that he had her attention and that she was not going to angrily rebut him, he continued. "Yeah, he gave you gifts, but you should be proud with what you've done with them. That shows your own skills, your own desire, and your own strong drive that will lead you forward."

She didn't look convinced. However, the pause in rebuking his statement gave him a better insight into her than any words could. She looked embarrassed, determined to look anywhere except for him.

"Did I miss something?" Garrus asked, rejoining them and signaling that their intimate conversation now had an audience.

"No," Miranda shook her head. "You didn't miss anything."

Shepard remained silent, studying the Cerberus Director. She now looked annoyed, probably at herself for allowing so much about her past so slip past her defensive demeanor. Shepard was sure she had spoken more to him about her past than she had done with anyone before him. Without looking back at them, she walked further up ahead, leaving the Spectre and turian behind. The latter obviously confused and unaware at the conversation or interaction that had just taken place between Shepard and Miranda.

Their conversation was brief, lasting no more than a handful of minutes. But in that conversation, Shepard learned more about Miss Lawson than all of their interactions up to this point. He was given a much better view into the Cerberus Director. Realizing, there was a lot more beneath her frosty exterior…

He stopped in his reflective reverie on the Cerberus Operative. He couldn't allow himself to get distracted. He still had a job to do. His number one focus should be on getting himself and his squad out of here alive. Yet, it was difficult since his thoughts drifted back towards the alluring enigma known as Miranda Lawson.

"Come on Garrus," he said, leading the turian forward. "We still have a platoon of insects and zombies to kill."

"Zombie?" repeated a confused Garrus.

Shepard smiled. Looking ahead, he could see Miranda was only a short distance away from them, but she made no attempt to wait for them or even to look back.

"I meant creepers."

Garrus wasn't going to let it slide. "What's a zombie?"

Shepard laughed, silently wondering if he could get a hold of any of the old zombie vids from Earth using the Normandy's systems. "I'll tell ya later."

"We're getting closer," Miranda called, over her shoulder, before Garrus could press his line of questions in his determination to discover the true meaning of what a zombie was. She was standing at the end of the corridor, their passage blocked by a pair of sealed doors.

Garrus came to a stop beside Shepard. "So its behind the doors?"

"We're getting closer," she said. "These doors will have us officially entering the facility and from there it is only a few minutes until we reach the mainframe."

"Good," he said, turning to Garrus. "Contact the others and see what their position is."

Garrus nodded, holstering his rifle, he turned his attention to his omni-tool, trying to establish a connection with Wrex and the others.

Shepard took the opportunity to approach Miranda, who was standing in front of the doors. Her omni-tool glowing, she was trying to open the doors.

"These doors automatically seal once I activated the safe room," she explained, keeping her attention on her omni-tool. "It's a safety procedure in trying to detain any lingering experiments from escaping."

"Makes sense," he admitted, "will it be a problem for us?"

"No, I will have these doors open with the override codes," answered, "I already sent them to your quarian."

"That's good," he said, silently pleased that she had thought that far ahead. The two stood in an awkward silence, she seemed determined to keep her attention on the doors or her omni-tool, while he remained quiet, silently watching her do her work, while trying to formulate a polite way to bring up their earlier conversation.

"Did you mean what you said?"

He looked to see he was the target of her blue eyes. Unlike the other times when they shone with indifference or anger, this time he could see genuine curiosity, perhaps event a glimmer of wanting to accept what he had said.

"Every word of it," he assured her, before adding a smile.

She slowly returned it. Her genuine smile only highlighted her beauty, but as quickly as it appeared it was swallowed up by her frosty persona. She slid her mask back on, effortlessly.

In the back of his head, he made a mental note in wanting to see her smile once again, because when she did, he was sure nothing in the galaxy could rival her beauty. _Where had that come from?_ He inwardly sighed. He didn't like where his thoughts were trying to lead him. They were trying to distract him. He was thankful for the interruption and distraction that Garrus provided him, when he rejoined them.

"The other squad has just passed through to enter the facility."

"Was there any resistance?" he asked.

"There was some, but it was nothing, they couldn't handle."

Shepard nodded. He trusted Wrex's leadership and the skills of his squad. He had been hesitant in splitting his squad up, since there still was plenty of friction between his companions, and that trust was still a main issue between some of them. He knew they would be okay, because they were professionals and that they had a job to do, and he knew they wouldn't let him down.

He could only hope that this mission would establish and strengthen their bonds of trust, because they would need it, moving forward. If they had wanted to stop Saren and the geth then they would need to learn to start working together to rely and trust one another.

"Miss Lawson?"

"Locks have been overridden."

The doors slid open, revealing a large storage room. There were various crates littered and scattered in different positions throughout the room. Several of them had been toppled over, in what looked to have been at an attempt to form a wall. His theory was proven correct when Shepard spotted two bodies behind the toppled crates. The bodies had been torn part, flesh, and bone scattered around, while blood smeared parts of the walls and floors. It was a gruesome sight for the veteran soldier,

He instinctively brought his rifle to bear, leading Garrus and Miranda further into the room, spotting the doors at the other end that should lead them into the facility mainframe. The doors opened before his presence trigged the automatic opening.

A horde of creepers stumbled out, wailing their eerie low groans as they flailed their arms to charge them.

"Find cover," Shepard ordered, sliding behind a row of crates, he rested his rifle on the top of them before he opened fire on the charging creepers. Garrus took a position to his left, and Miranda to his right, entering the fray of combat with assault rifle and pistol respectively.

The combine firepower of the trio easily tore through the first wave of creepers. Clipping limbs, and heads clean off bodies, as the corpses began toppling over and piling up. They didn't have any time to admire their accomplishments, since a loud clicking noise above them signaled that they should prepare for more company.

The ceiling panels above creaked and cracked, revealing for rachni soldiers falling from the ceiling and onto the floor, right behind their position. _That had been how they were getting around, _he realized. They were using the vents. They were very smart.

"Miranda finish off the creepers," Shepard instructed, before turning to Garrus. "We'll start on the rachni."

Garrus obeyed without question, spinning in place to now resting his back along the row of crates that they had used to take cover from the creepers. He could now properly aim his assault rifle on the advancing rachni soldiers.

"Don't take too long, Shepard," Miranda growled. She was in battle mode. Her body was glowing with biotic energy, using her biotics to slam a group of husks against the wall. The bodies exploded in a shower of flesh, blood, and appendages.

Shepard, meanwhile, holstered his rifle in favor of his shotgun. The weapon of choice for combat in such intimate proximity, taking aim at the nearest rachni skittering towards him, he opened fire.

The close range of the shotgun, coupled with the upgrades Shepard had put on it were devastating to the rachni. The first shot alone shredded the rachni's torso. The second shot finished it off. Looking at his left, Shepard was pleased to see Garrus was finishing off an advancing pair of rachni with ease, with the assault rifle. That meant there was more rachni unaccounted for…

"Little help, Shepard!"

Shepard spun around to find the last rachni soldier was advancing on Miranda, who was still trying to finish off the remaining creepers. She had successfully been able to repel the rachni soldier with a biotic warp, but she was now surrounded by a handful of husks.

"Garrus target the rachni," he ordered, not waiting for his friend's answer. Shepard opened fire on the nearest creeper. The heavy round of the shotgun pummeled its torso, punching out a large piece of its flesh. It was dead before it hit the ground.

Shepard slid over the row of crates to get in better range with his shotgun at the remaining husks who had encircled the aggravated Cerberus Operative who was keeping them at bay with her pistol.

Two of the husks peeled off from the group and charged Shepard. Their speed was impressive, cutting the distance to the Spectre before he could fire a single shot from his shotgun, in fear of overheating his prized weapon. He had to resort to using his gun as a club, connecting with the closest of the two husks on the side of its head. It stumbled backwards, giving him enough time to try to use his shotgun. He fired the carefully aimed shot the husk's head clean off its neck.

The second husk not to be forgotten or ignored, slashed at Shepard, who jumped backwards just in time to avoid the sharp claws of the husk. The creeper remained on the offensive slashing and clawing at Shepard who was forced to backpedal to avoid the husks attacks. His back hit the wall. The husk seeing its opening swung its sharp claws at him in a downwards slashing motion, he raised his arm to block the swipe that was directed at his face. The clawed hand raked across his armored arm, besides the streaks of the claws that cut thin lines through the armor, Shepard was fine.

He pushed the creature backwards, trying to free himself from his poor tactical position, the husk not expecting a physical attack stumbled backwards, showing its clumsy and uncoordinated traits. Shepard lowered his head, tackling the mindless husk. The Spectre and creeper fell to the ground, with the former landing on top. The creeper growled its clawed hands swiping and slashing Shepard in an attempt to push him off. Shepard positioned his shotgun, the muzzle of the weapon inches away from the maw of the creeper. He looked into the black empty eyes of the husk and pulled the trigger. Its head exploded showering Shepard in a disgusting spray of blood, dried flesh, and bits of skin. He was very thankful that he had his helmet and visor on to shield him.

He rolled off the headless husk, wiping away the husk's sappy blood and bits of flesh from his visor that was obstructing his view. He stood up, pleased with his handiwork. He looked around to see Garrus and Miranda had successfully taken out the remaining husks and rachni, leaving them alone in the storage room, surrounding them with more than a dozen of husks and rachni corpses.

"You always have to do things the hard way, Shepard."

"Yeah, yeah, Garrus," Shepard said, brushing off a thin piece of husk flesh from his shoulder.

"If you're done rolling around in husk flesh, Shepard, I advise that we should get moving," Miranda drawled.

He looked to see that the corners of her mouth were tugging upwards, belaying her tone and remark. Before he could return her smile or her joke, she walked out of the room in a very purposeful manner.

Garrus came up alongside Shepard, "ouch." Turning to where Miranda had been standing, back to Shepard. "You don't have to be human to know that was embarrassing."

"Thanks, Garrus," Shepard said, rolling his eyes. "I appreciate the support."

Garrus shrugged, patting him on the shoulder, "that's what friends are for, Shepard."

Shepard watched his turian friend follow Miranda out of the storage room and towards the mainframe. His thoughts were on the alluring enigma known as Miranda Lawson. In brief moments, he saw glimpses of a genuine, caring, intelligent and very competent woman. In those moments, he had gotten along incredibly well with her. She had even shown off her dry and sharp sense of humor. However, the other Miranda Lawson was cold, unapproachable, indifferent, and condescending to all she came into contact with.

Shepard shook his head, trying to free himself from the tangled web of thoughts that were spinning within his mind about Miranda Lawson. He cursed himself for being so distracted and allowing these thoughts to run rampant. He had a job to do. He had to clear this facility and bring those responsible to justice.

Commander John Shepard never let anyone get in the way of his objectives.


	5. 4: Purge

**I will Rise**

**By Spectre4hire**

**Chapter Four: Purge**

_Stupid, stupid,_ Miranda chastised herself for the umpteenth time. She couldn't believe how much she let slip to Shepard during their brief but revealing conversation. She'd told him more about herself in a few minutes than she had to any other individual in several years.

She tried to focus on why she let so much slip to Shepard. After years of creating and perfecting her 'Ice Queen' persona, within Cerberus, she had allowed herself to reveal intimate and guarded secrets about herself to him. It was unnerving and baffling for Miranda Lawson. She tried to find the source or reason of her slip ups to him. Always the pragmatic one, she tried to assess the man and the character of the Spectre, looking at him as she would one of her own experiments or assignments.

Was it his willingness to listen? His ability not to judge her that caused her to speak so openly about her past? Was it his charisma, something she had already recognized and felt even before her revealing conversation? He had this way of being able to open you up, see how you ticked, understand your thoughts and feelings, offer sympathy and guidance before putting you back together. It was unsettling that he had been so effective and quick at being able to dismantle her. She exposed her most embarrassing secrets to him; others would have used this privilege information against her, but not him.

It was no doubt, this strength, this trait that allowed him to so easily work with a wide variety of companions, including a krogan, a turian, and a quarian.

His words still stirred within her, words that brought a surprisingly amount of comfort to her even now with this inner battle continuing to intensify.

_Focus, Miranda, _she reminded herself, she was currently standing in the Main Frame of the Cerberus facility. Her omni-tool glowed in one hand while she relayed the proper codes to the terminal in front of her. She cautiously threw a glance over her shoulder to see Shepard and Garrus, the turian, mulling about, near the door. They were talking to one another. They looked to be joking with one another if Shepard's smile and Garrus' laughter was anything to go by.

Miranda wondered what the Butcher of Torfan and the turian had in common that allowed them to talk and joke so easily. She studied them closely in her time with them and was impressed by the rapport that the two built had built between one another. It was evident that they respected and trusted one another.

A soft beeping noise brought her attention back to the terminal, a few words formed across the terminal screen.

**Codes accepted, ready to purge?**

She clicked: **Yes****.**

She now had control of the systems. With a click of her omni-tool she could access the purge command that would hopefully kill all remaining rachni and creepers in this facility. She entered the appropriate command on the terminal. She glanced at her omni-tool and was pleased to see the purging command still highlighted. Satisfied, she shut down the terminal and turned her attention back on the first human Spectre and his turian companion.

"Everything all right Miss Lawson?"

Miranda allowed herself a triumphant smile before answering the Spectre's question. "I have the command."

He looked pleased and nodded once before gesturing to the turian. "Garrus has just received similar confirmation from the other team."

"Yes, they did their duty admirably," Miranda admitted, stepping off of the platform that had the terminal, walking down the steps to approach them.

"So can we leave now?" asked the turian warily.

"Yes, we can. Once we exit the facility, I will enter the purge command. It should take effect immediately and will eradicate all life forms within the facility in a matter of seconds."

"Good, let's just hope that gets all of them," Shepard said, motioning with his rifle for them to get moving.

Garrus was first, rifle raised; he was alert for any sign of intrusion. The turian wasn't allowing himself to become complacent. Miranda had to applaud him, for staying focus. It was an admirable trait, and one that too few soldiers had, including many of the Cerberus operatives that she has worked with in the past. Yes, the turian was impressive, making it very clear why someone like Shepard would keep him close.

She did not want to admit it, but she was impressed with Shepard's diverse but very skilled team. She had doubts that a quarian, a turian, a krogan not to mention two humans could work so well together. She hadn't seen the other team in action, but was confident of their skills if they had been able to successfully navigate through the facility to reach the mainframe.

It made Miranda even more impressed with the first human Spectre. She could tell that his charisma and character did not just attract humans but other species too. It was evident with how the turian and quarian seemed to hang on his every word, as well as the krogan who seemed to hold Shepard to high level of respect.

_If only he was with Cerberus,_she couldn't help but wonder how much better their organization could be, if they had someone like Shepard. She held no qualms against the Illusive Man but some of his underlings have proven time and time again unworthy of the trust and leeway that the Illusive Man sometimes gave them. The perfect example being the very facility that Miranda and Shepard were currently in.

She wasn't sure that Shepard would take such an offer seriously if she were to suggest it. Especially after the cleanup he and his squad had done on the last few facilities, not to mention them finding an Alliance Admiral's body, who had been killed by Cerberus. She cursed those shortsighted fools once more. It was because of them that Cerberus was so despised and polarizing by the rest of the galaxy.

"Good work, Miranda."

Shepard's sudden praise shook Miranda from her thoughts, looking over to see the first human Spectre was giving her his undivided attention.

She nodded, but didn't reply to his compliment. Her thoughts were not organized. Her feelings for the man, continued to evolve in ways she would have thought impossible, just hours ago. However, his next words brought Miranda's mind to a standstill.

"You know Cerberus tried recruiting me a few times."

She turned to him. She was aware of the disbelieving expression that graced her perfect face but she cared more about what he just said then how she looked.

He smiled, taking in her reaction with amusement. "When I graduated from N-7 training, they approached me."

She wasn't aware of Cerberus recruitment history. She wasn't privy to such records. She shouldn't have been surprised that Cerberus went after Shepard, even before Elysium and Torfan. The man supposedly was one of the best N-7 recruits to ever graduate its academy.

"I am glad you declined," Garrus quipped up ahead of them.

Miranda narrowed her blue eyes at the turian's back.

Shepard chuckled, "it was tempting."

"Really?" asked Miranda, she could see the turian had stopped in his tracks. He turned about face to Shepard. His mandibles twitching in disbelief with Shepard's admission, she had to hold back a smug smile at the comedic look it provided.

The first human Spectre was either oblivious to his reaction or ignoring it, while he answered her question. "Yeah, it was, but I didn't feel comfortable making such an important commitment from such a mysterious organization."

Miranda nodded, she couldn't fault that logic. It was true Cerberus kept things very close to the chest. It was one of their strengths but it also made things difficult for them to recruit when they went outside the pro-human circles. It hindered them, when they wanted to tap into extraordinary human potential such as Shepard.

"You said they approached you again," Miranda observed, remembering his earlier remark.

"Yeah, they did after Torfan," his face darkened, at the reminder of the battle. No doubt, it stirred a lot of bitter and painful memories for the Spectre.

"I almost signed up with them, there and then," he admitted, "Especially with all the flak that the Alliance and the media were giving me."

"Why didn't you?" asked a very curious Miranda, who found this new insight into Shepard very interesting. She was determined to try to find these records or even broach the Illusive Man about the subject.

He shrugged, "I didn't think it would be a good idea to make such an important decision out of anger and resentment."

"I see," she replied, trying her best to keep her tone normal, not wanting to betray the disappointment she found swelling within her stomach. She still felt an odd feeling of relief that Shepard basically said it wasn't Cerberus' past that kept him away from the organization, but his own feelings and circumstances. _Perhaps, there's a future, yet,_ she mused, but her thoughts about Shepard and Cerberus were interrupted by the turian.

"It certainly didn't hurt your career," Garrus quipped. He was the first to leave the facility's entrance. Shepard chuckled, following his turian companion out.

Miranda was last, trying her best to keep her tone and emotions in check when it came to the turian's blatant disrespect to her organization. It was easy for her to keep her emotions under control. She was use to being around many who vehemently were against the organization. It still bothered the loyal Operative, believing those who spoke vehemently against Cerberus, didn't understand or refused to accept all the good, Cerberus was doing for them, for humanity, behind the curtain.

Much of this ire and hatred was directed by the Citadel Council, easily molding the different media outlets to share similar opinions of the human organization. It was another way for the aliens to try to keep the humans under their thumb. Sadly, the Alliance easily complied with the Council, seeking to be in Alien Council's good graces. They were supposed to represent humanity, but more often than not, the Alliance wanted to win alien support, not human support. Thankfully, there was Cerberus.

Realizing, she had allowed herself to be distracted, she brought her attention to the matter-at-hand. She entered the command into her omni-tool, watching with satisfaction as the door behind them sealed shut, before the command to purge the facility appeared on her omni-tool.

"Is your squad out of the second facility?" she asked Shepard, who turned to Garrus, who was in charge of communication with the other squad. The turian gave a brief nod.

Without hesitation, she entered the command to purge the facility, hoping that they had successfully rectified an unfortunate Cerberus mistake. The vents in the facility closed, making sure the gas would not access the rest of the base. The only thing the squads now had to prepare themselves for were any remaining creatures that had escaped the facility before the purge was activated. It was a definite possibility especially with the number of creepers and rachni that they had already encountered.

"Let's get out of here," suggested Garrus.

"I couldn't agree more," replied Shepard, walking in step with him, as they headed back towards the main facility's safe room. "Did you talk to Chief Williams?"

"Yes, she has relayed our coordinates," Garrus answered.

"Relayed our what?" Miranda nearly shouted, from behind the Spectre and turian, she had been walking behind them. Her outburst brought the attention of both of them back to her. The turian was cradling his assault rifle, his small eyes on her.

"Coordinates of this base," clarified Garrus.

She was sure that he was enjoying himself, "To who?"

Garrus opened his mouth to answer, but it was Shepard who spoke.

"To the Alliance."

She turned to him, seeing him look back at her, with a stoic expression. His blue eyes fixed on her, his rifle held gingerly to his side, but she wasn't dumb. She knew the Spectre's skill with the rifle, made it easy for him to pull it out and open fire in a matter of seconds, if he was forced to, as was the turian, who was watching her closely. She settled for glaring at him, it didn't seem to bother him in the least.

"I see, so you're going to allow petty prejudices to corrupt your judgment."

His response actually surprised and startled Miranda- He laughed. "You committed illegal experiments! You didn't think you would get away with it because of good will and helping us clean up **your mess**."

His emphasis on the last two words stung Miranda. It wasn't her mess. It had been the sloppy work of her predecessors, people who had been rightly punished. Miranda narrowed her eyes at the man. She hadn't excelled in her position with Cerberus without thinking out all possibilities and she would be lying if she hadn't prepared for such a scenario. However, it was still a bitter pill to swallow, which only made her all the more furious with herself in her lapse of focus and discipline. These were traits she prided herself on, to her dismay, she found herself lacking on the account of one man, and a hell of first impression

"So I suppose they will be arriving to arrest the survivors?"

He furrowed his brows, the only reaction and glimpse past his stoic demeanor. It seemed he hadn't been predicting her to be so diplomatic and resigned in tone and expression. Miranda had to be careful, she didn't want him to become suspicious.

"They will be."

"Very well, I suppose we are to follow our different roles," she replied, silently thankful that she had made prior arrangements. She was not going to allow herself to be arrested by the Alliance. She needed to play this very carefully. She needed to be the bitter, but reserved Cerberus Operative just long enough, until her prior arrangements could be revealed. Yes, she was use to playing her roles, and this one would be no different.

"I won't to forget to note your willingness to help," he said, sincerely. "Not to mention your support and the steps you made to help us rectify your mistakes."

She bit back a sarcastic report that threatened to let slip at how the Alliance only saw red when it came to Cerberus. Especially, since they had many secrets about the Alliance, not to mention many generous boosters and informants working throughout the various ranks of the Systems Alliance.

"I'm sorry Miss Lawson but duty must always come first," he said, and to her surprise, he truly looked and sounded conflicted. She noted his appearance and tone in the back of her mind. Perhaps there was something there after all something sympathetic to either her or her cause.

She allowed herself a dramatic sigh to escape her lips, falling into the frustrated role of a captured operative. "We shouldn't dally. I would rather be taken by the Alliance then these monsters."

He nodded, "Yes, lets." He gestured to his rifle, signaling that she would be going first. This allowed Garrus and Shepard to walk behind her, with their rifles trained on her back, in case she tried to evade being arrested.

She held her head high, playing the haughty, Operative as she began walking, listening to their steps behind them. They couldn't see the satisfied smile that bloomed on her lips. Her thoughts returned to the Commander and his sympathetic leanings towards her and Cerberus.

* * *

><p>It had been ten minutes. Ten minutes since Shepard had revealed his intentions in handing over Miranda Lawson and the remaining Cerberus survivors to Alliance to be arrested and prosecuted. Neither Shepard nor his turian friend had spoken to her since then. They both had given her space and privacy. They were walking the final stretch that would lead them back to the safe-room where the remaining survivors had taken shelter.<p>

At this time, Shepard had taken a position to walk in front of her, while Garrus remained behind her. Miranda had noticed the Spectre looking back at her on more than one occasion. She was sure that he wanted to say something to her, but he didn't. Whether that was by pride or some other factor, she didn't know.

She mentally listed several reasons that would garner the reaction that she had seen from him, from the time he made his decision to now. Guilt was one of the first that she thought of and one that she latched onto. If the trait had been properly diagnosed then that would be very intriguing to Miranda and would cater further study.

_Enough, _she stopped herself from further mental rambling about the issue. As of right now it was a moot point. She could only hope that the plan she had set in motion would succeed before she and the others were taken away.

"We got company," Shepard called, over his shoulder. His rifle was already spitting out bullets into the corridor. A few throaty groans from further ahead, were clear indication that the small squad had encountered more creepers.

Miranda called on her biotics, stepping forward to simultaneously cocking her hand-cannon. A group of creepers were lumbering towards them, with large black eyes, throaty growls, and sharp digits.

Shepard and Garrus had easily dispatched the first wave of monsters. The groups of terrors were confined by the narrow corridors of the base. Their sappy blood and gray flesh splattered the walls, but the heavy losses they suffered, did nothing to deter the second wave from their attack.

Miranda pushed her way between the two, knowing that they would need to reload their assault rifles. She summoned her biotics and with a twitch of her hand enveloped the front three creepers, picking them off of the ground, having them floating harmlessly above her. The creepers were clawing and stirring within the confines of her biotic grip trying to escape.

She then released the grip, turning it into a powerful biotic slam. This sent the creepers jettisoning back to the ground where they smashed into three more approaching creepers. An explosion of howls, blood, and flesh echoed and splattered along the corridors. Miranda without missing a beat raised her pistol and emptied a round into the remaining advancing creepers. She clipped two in the torso and shoulder, forcing them to stagger back and peppered the remaining two with group shootings to the head and chest.

Shepard picked off the injured creepers that Miranda had hit but not finished. The fight was over.

The pungent odor of decaying flesh reeking from the creeper bodies tickled under Miranda's nose, forcing her to wrinkle it in protest.

"That better be all of them," Shepard grumbled, to no one in particular.

"We are almost there," Miranda pointed out.

"Good," the Spectre and turian agreed.

* * *

><p>"Skipper, you made it."<p>

Miranda looked up and bit back a sigh when she saw who was coming to greet them. Out of all of Shepard's companions, it had to be the Alliance marine-Ashley. Miranda would have preferred the quarian or even the krogan.

Shepard gave a weak chuckle. "You sound surprised."

Miranda was sure she saw Ashley's cheeks flush, but with the lighting and the helmet that the marine wore, she couldn't be positive.

"Just relieved, sir."

Miranda noticed the glare that was sent her way by the marine, not in the mood, for an argument, or a confrontation, Miranda simply ignored her.

Shepard didn't seem to notice the silent growing tension between herself and Ashley, or if he did, he decided not to comment on it. Especially with the arrival of the krogan and quarian, he turned his attention to the former, "Any trouble, Wrex?"

The krogan gave a throaty chuckle before signaling to the shotgun in his hand. "Nothing we couldn't handle, Shepard."

"Good, what about the survivors?" asked Shepard.

"Accounted for and registered," answered Ashley.

"Registered?" asked Miranda, stepping forward, which got the attention of Shepard's squad and the Commander himself.

"Yes, names and information for the Alliance," she answered back smugly.

The Cerberus operative wanted to roll her eyes, but she stopped herself. "When will the Alliance be coming?"

"Within the hour," answered Shepard, who was watching her closely but his stoic expression made it impossible for Miranda to decipher the man's emotions.

She found it very frustrating.

"We should wait for them in the lobby," suggested Garrus.

"The turian's right," Wrex agreed. "That way we can seal the doors and not have to worry about any more buggies."

Shepard nodded, "Ashley, Tali, Garrus round up the survivors. Wrex head up to the lobby and secure the location. We don't want any surprises."

The squad gave their Commander affirmative replies, with the marine, quarian and turian going downstairs into the safe room while the krogan went upstairs to secure the lobby.

With his new orders, it now left Miranda alone with the first human Spectre.

"The Council must be very pleased to have such a thorough errand boy," she observed, bitterness seeping into her tone. She still had to play the part of an angry Cerberus Operative. She couldn't tip Shepard off to the plan she had already set in motion. But to Miranda's own fear and frustration, her emotions were leaking through. She was angry with him, no matter how sincere he looked or sounded with his decision to turn her in. She found her own walls crumbling. Walls she had carefully put up and maintained for years. These walls were now threatening to come down and it was all because of one man!

This was a man whom she told more about her past than any other. He knew more about her, then what she was comfortable with. Yet with all of her skills and training, she had misread him. It was a horrible feeling and one that painfully lingered within her gut.

Shepard clenched his jaw, his hands behind his back while his eyes remained on hers. "Duty always comes first, Miss Lawson."

"Admirable," Miranda remarked scathingly, though ironically she lived by a similar code within her operations with Cerberus. However, she was not about to admit it.

"It hasn't always served me well."

She looked up to see the sincerity behind those blue eyes, those same eyes that she found herself being drawn to. It was those same eyes that comforted and soothed her, that had coerced her into spilling some of her most guarded secrets.

"You must do what you think is right, Shepard." She turned her back to him before adding. "Just remember that you won't always be praised or rewarded for it."

"I know," he replied bitterly.

His words stirred within her, finding herself turning back around to face him. Against her own judgment and anger, she took a few steps closer to him. No matter her feelings on the current situation or the man, she still found herself drawn to him. She was so close that she could practically breathe in his scent. She was silently pleased when he didn't take a step back. His eyes remained on hers. She was sure that he was having a similar conflict about her.

"They won't always be on your side," her words came just above a whisper.

His eyes narrowed for a second, "And Cerberus will?"

Miranda should have expected that response. "If your interests are to preserve humanity, then yes," She inwardly smiled at the momentary lapse of his guard, to reveal his disbelief at her answer. "Including your current mission, we don't and will not allow politics to dictate to us. Our mission is always clear."

"Admirable," he remarked.

The irony wasn't lost on her, on him using the same word that she had just earlier used on him.

"And what about you, Miss Lawson?"

She smiled, "Where would you like me to be Commander?"

His answer never came, since a third voice punctured their private conversation-"Skipper?"

Miranda looked over her shoulder, smiling when she noticed the frown on the marine's lips. She was currently staring daggers at Miranda. She ignored the glare, and looking over the marine, Miranda saw the remaining Cerberus survivors were all cuffed, and none of them seemed to be putting up much of a fight. They were acting like sheep, waiting to be herded. It was pathetic.

Shepard cleared his throat, taking a step back from Miranda, but she didn't miss how his eyes lingered on her before he stepped away. "Let's move," he said, gesturing to the doors that led back up to the lobby. Garrus and the quarian took point, with the survivors following them, when the last one disappeared from view, Ashley turned to Miranda.

"Your weapon?"

Miranda smiled at her, knowing the marine was still fuming. She made a show of offering her pistol to Shepard, not Ashley. This seemed to only make the marine angrier, cuffing Miranda's wrists-hard.

"Let's get moving, your ride is waiting."

She was always cool under pressure and this time was no different. This wasn't the first time she had been caught or arrested. She always had a contingency plan. She didn't get to where she was without one, and this was no different.

Miranda took the last few steps and when the lobby doors opened, she couldn't help but smile at what she was greeted with. Another plan successfully initiated and completed.

Three-dozen Cerberus commandos all armed and armored with rifles raised and ready to fire lined the lobby. They had already surrounded and disarmed Shepard's other squad members. The turian, quarian and the krogan all had their hands up while the Cerberus survivors flocked to their saviors like an insect to a flame.

"Hands up!" they said to Shepard and Ashley when they entered the lobby behind Miranda.

Ashley snarled, pulling out her rifle, but the Cerberus commandos cocked their rifles, proving they were not bluffing, and were ready to open fire. It didn't come to that.

"Stand down, Williams," Shepard ordered.

The marine mumbled a few choice words, but like the good soldier she was, she obeyed, holstering her rifle, before putting her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Director Lawson?" asked the lead commando who like all the other commandos, was donned in the Cerberus colors of orange and black. His facial features were blocked from the tinted visor and helmet he wore.

Miranda stepped forward, "I didn't think you got my message." She had sent a message to Cerberus Command when she had been unloading information on one of the terminals that she had come across.

Shepard and Garrus had been most sour about her decision, but both had relented when she had told them that it was a diagnosis on the station and the creatures. It had been a beneficial lie.

"We did, we're just glad we made it in time."

"We should get going the Alliance should be here within the hour," Miranda said, remembering the conversation between Shepard and Ashley.

"Don't worry, we'll be long gone."

Miranda nodded her approval before turning back to face Shepard and Ashley. The Alliance marine was absolutely fuming at Miranda, brown eyes narrowed and a vicious frown forming on her lips.

Shepard's reaction was the complete opposite. He looked bemused, borderline impressed at how he had been duped. He only shook his head before a small smile appeared on his lips. It was a frustrated smile, but one that Miranda still enjoyed.

"Well played, Miss Lawson."

Miranda returned his smile. She was pleased that here was a man who would admit when he was outdone and out maneuvered. She gestured to her cuffed hands. He shook his head in amusement, stepping forward to undo her cuffs, slowly and carefully.

"Thank you, Commander," she said in a sultry voice. She couldn't help herself. She loved it when she got her way. And Miranda Lawson usually got her way.

"My weapons?" she asked, batting her eye lashes which were accompanied by another seductive smile that she had mastered over the years. Shepard handed her pistol first and then her hand-cannon. She took them graciously before holstering them.

She stepped forward still smiling, her gloved hand gracing his shoulder, seeing him instinctively shiver in pleasure. She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, her hands gently caressing the front of his armor. Before her gloved fingers went to his omni-tool ever so gently and carefully and after pushing a few buttons, she brought them back to his chest. She was even more pleased when he didn't push her away or try to break the kiss. When she did pull away, she could see the pleasure fogging his eyes.

She shot a wink at the Commander before turning to Ashley, and if looks could burn, Miranda Lawson would be a pile of ash, but she wasn't. She replied to the scowling marine with a sweet smile.

"Let's get moving," Miranda said, falling back into her role as superior operative and director. None of the Commandos questioned her orders or her intimate action with the Commander. They carefully led the survivors out first then Miranda before sealing the doors behind them, giving them enough time to get off this planet and out of this system before the Alliance arrived.

The experiments may not have been saved, but the research had been. She knew that wouldn't be the last time she would see or hear from Shepard, not if she could help it. She did after all program her own private and secure contact information into his omni-tool.

She was definitely going to keep an eye on his future.


	6. 5: Relay

**I will Rise**

**By Spectre4hire**

**Chapter Five: Relay**

Commander Shepard was alone in his quarters aboard the Alliance frigate: _Normandy SR-1._Hours ago, he committed treason when he commandeered the vessel and left the Citadel.

He was currently pacing his cabin, trying to come to grips to what he had to do.

The Council had forced his hand. They were too stubborn or foolish. Or both.

They refused to realize the true threat behind Saren Arterius. The turian Spectre had gathered a geth army, claiming to be the prophet for a race of machines bent on wiping away galactic civilizations every fifty thousand years…The Reapers

To John Shepard, it sounded like a bad Sci-Fi plot. But he knew it was real. He had come into contact with the vanguard of these 'Reapers' known as Sovereign on Virmire.

Virmire…

He groaned, before stopping his pacing to walk over to his desk where he already had a half-empty bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. It was contraband that Lt. Kaidan Alenko had confiscated. He had delivered it to Shepard unaware that the first human Spectre would just make sure it didn't go to waste.

He poured himself a drink, and raised it to his lips. This was only his second shot.

He had taken the first shot as soon as Joker had cleared the Citadel.

The second shot was to help him forget that mission on Virmire.

"To Ashley," he murmured to the empty room, before he drowned the cup in one gulp. The burning taste trickled down his throat, before settling in his stomach. He put the glass back down and made no attempt to refill it. He sighed, running a hand over his face. She had been a good soldier and had served under him admirably ever since Eden Prime

The choice had been to leave Kaidan behind with the salarian STF soldiers, or double back to get Ashley who had already set and detonated the nuclear bomb. The choice was clear. She had done her duty. The bomb had been set. So he went forward to collect Kaidan and the Salarians.

They escaped, she didn't.

She died a hero. He knew that. He was also sure that she permanently wiped the blemish away from her family's name.

It didn't make it any easier, when he recounted the mission to the Alliance as well as penning a message to Mrs. Williams. The letter to her mother was difficult. He couldn't explain too much of their mission or where her daughter even died. The Alliance had forbidden him from even contacting Ashley's family. That didn't stop him for writing the letter. Ashley's death didn't deserve to be buried under private files or high security clearances. Of course the Alliance had found out that he disobeyed them and had Admiral Hackett contact him.

Shepard smirked, remembering Hackett's 'reprimand.' _You did the right thing Shepard- Hackett out._

Shepard was sure the young gunnery chief had feelings for him. His feelings were less clear for her. He was drawn to her confidence. He missed her poems too. He didn't regret the decision he made that condemned her to death. She had done her duty. He had to do his. Doing one's duty was first and foremost. That was how he was raised.

"Look what it has gotten me!"

His duty had made him a hero at Elysium. But his duty condemned him at Torfan. His duty raised him to the status of being the first human Spectre. His duty had just recently deemed him rogue by the Council.

He plumped himself down on his chair in front of his desk and morosely looked at his terminal screen. He had at least four hours to kill before _the Normandy_ was expected to hit the Mu Relay, which would take them to Ilos.

He had tried and failed to get some sleep. Too much adrenaline was coursing through his veins to even allow himself to lie still, let alone fall asleep. He rested his head in his hand with his arm being anchored to the desk by his elbow.

_"You must do what you think is right Shepard… Just remember that you won't always be praised or rewarded for it."_The accented voice of Cerberus Director Miranda Lawson fluttered into his mind. She was the alluring enigma whom he met in his attempt to shut down 'rogue' Cerberus cells. That was five months ago. She had gotten away when he had contacted the Alliance to arrest her and the remaining Cerberus survivors.

_She duped me._Shepard smiled at the memory. He hated to lose. When she had contacted Cerberus, he was furious that she had successfully contacted them without his knowledge. However, he was also impressed. She had proved her skills and assets.

He placed his fingers on his lips, recalling the chaste but intoxicating kiss she gave him before she left. He knew she was enjoying herself. He knew that she liked when she got her away. The way she acted, he was sure she usually got her way.

It wasn't until he came back to _the Normandy_ that he realized she had programmed her private contact information onto his omni-tool.

He had yet to contact her.

Five months had passed and he sent neither message nor attempt to try to establish a line of communication between the Cerberus Director and himself.

He sighed, when the intriguing idea seeped into the forefront of his mind. _Contact her now._

He brought his fingers to the terminal. They hovered over the keyboard, but he hesitated.

_What was he suppose to say?_ He had five months to contact her and yet he chose now.

_Why her? Why now?_

_Why not her?_ He countered. Who else was he suppose to contact? He was aware of the likelihood of him returning alive was minuscule. Yet, he was drawn and intrigued by the idea of contacting the Cerberus director. He couldn't deny his own feelings on the woman had changed radically during their brief stint together.

What was he suppose to type in a message?

_Hey Miranda,_

_Sorry I haven't contacted you these last five months. I've been real busy chasing down sentient machines that destroy civilizations every fifty thousand years. By the way, I'm now on the run from the Council. Also I'm probably going to die in the attempt to stop Saren and the geth army._

_Just thought you should know._

Shepard snorted in amusement at that message idea.

He turned his head to the whiskey bottle and shot glass… He poured himself his third drink, realizing that perhaps liquid courage was all he needed. When he finished pouring the drink, he immediately returned the bottle to the bottom drawer of his desk.

He would not allow his emotions or any whiskey hinder his duties or judgment when it came to Ilos. He tilted his filled shot glass to the blank terminal screen and drank.

The burning sensation trickled down his throat. He let loose a breath, "Why the hell not."

He called up his omni-tool and copied Miranda's information onto a blank message template. He was about to start typing, when a small message box appeared in the center of his screen.

He stared stupidly at the message box for several seconds, when he noticed that the message was from Miranda Lawson.

He clicked the box to open and was surprised by the brief message.

**Are you available to chat?**

A small voice was telling him to ignore the message. To turn off the terminal and try to get some sleep but he didn't. He couldn't. He found himself once more drawn to the enigma of Miranda Lawson.

He immediately sent a one-word message back to her. **Yes**

He waited.

Seconds grinded by before another message box appeared this time with a caption and an icon of a camera. He knew at once what this was. It was a Video stream communication invitation.

He hesitated. This was the point of no return.

He accepted the invitation.

A new window appeared on his terminal this one covering his entire screen. The window was blank except for a small hourglass in the middle of the box.

He subconsciously ran a hand through his jet-black hair. He looked down to make sure he was dressed. He was-barely.

Suddenly, the image of the beautiful Miranda Lawson appeared on his screen. She was in a similar position he was. She was sitting down at what he assumed was a desk, behind her though he could see an orange glow cast on an exotic looking skyline.

She was just like he remembered. Her hair was long and dark, falling past her shoulders with a few tresses falling around her face. She was wearing a Cerberus white shirt. He assumed she was wearing a matching pair of pants. Her face flawless, her skin a creamy white and even though he couldn't see much of it, he could easily remember her perfect figure.

Her most alluring trait though was her ice blue eyes. Those eyes had offered a glimpse into her true nature, during their limited contact on the Cerberus facility. It was from her eyes, that he could tell that there was someone underneath this ice-cold persona. It was someone who wanted to be seen, to be heard, and to be able to prove her worth.

Those same ice blue eyes were now looking at him.

He mentally fixed his face into his stoic mask that he fit himself with whenever he went out in public.

"Commander Shepard."

He had forgotten just how charming that accent was. He tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Miss Lawson."

"Thank you for accepting my invitation."

"I was caught off-guard by its speed."

She smiled, "I had a program attached, to alert me whenever you actually typed in that code."

"Code?"

"My contact information," She was still smiling.

Shepard couldn't help, but smile at her ingenious plan. "Clever."

"I had thought so," she said, but she was no longer smiling. She adapted a more calculating look when she added. "Then the months ticked by and I was beginning to think perhaps my program was faulty."

"It wasn't."

"I know that now."

He offered her a shrug and one of his more charming smiles that he could muster. He found it easier after three shots of whiskey. "I was uncertain what to do with the information."

His smile didn't seem to work. "I see," she said slowly. "Your suspicions are still rooted deep."

"Not necessarily suspicions but concerns about security."

"Then why now?"

_She was sharp,_ he silently admitted. He wasn't sure that he could successfully lie to her and get away with it. So instead he decided on a half-truth.

"Because in a few hours, I don't think it will matter."

She raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

He instinctively stiffened."That's classified."

"I see," she said. Her attention went off of him for a few seconds. He was sure that she was making a note on her omni-tool. In this time, Shepard carefully nudged his shot glass away from his terminal with his elbow, silently hoping that she hadn't seen it. Her sudden voice startled him to the fact that he thrust his elbow towards his glass causing it to slide right off his desk. It shattered on his cabin floor.

"Damn it," he muttered, not paying attention to what she had just said.

"What was that?" asked Miranda, her eyes moving around him for any hope of detecting the source of the noise.

"Nothing," he lied lamely, risking a glance to his left to see the remnants of his Alliance shot glass was on the floor. It was a pile of glass shards.

She didn't look to have believed him, but she didn't press. "I was saying that you are all over the galactic news."

"When am I not?" he countered, trying his best to sound indifferent or bored.

She smiled. That caught him off guard. "Yes, well whatever it is. It must be very important since the Council has been unable to locate you."

He shrugged, trying to look as if he didn't care about the news. "I suppose the Council will have a better time in the media then amidst the stars."

"There is no doubt about it."

"You're not on the Citadel are you?" He found himself suddenly asking.

"No," she answered. "Why?"

"It's just not safe."

She straightened up. "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer, mentally cursing himself for letting that bit of sensitive information slip.

She pounced on his slip-up. "Will the geth be invading the Citadel? Is that why the fleets are gathered there? Is that why you left?"

He held up his hands to stop the barrage of questions. "I'm not saying anything."

"How disappointing," she said, her eyes betraying her annoyance that he wasn't coming forward with any information.

"I tend to do that… a lot," he said bitterly, recalling his mother's words about his 'failure' at Torfan.

"So why did you contact me now?"

He sighed. He mentally tried to compose a logical and somewhat truthful answer that he'd hope would cause her to stop asking.

"I might not get another chance."

She immediately perked up at this answer. "What do you mean?"

He ran a hand through his hair, before turning his eyes away from the terminal. He fixed them on a part of the wall, just above the screen, so that he couldn't see her beautiful face.

"It's complicated, it's just… It's just that the mission I'm on may only be one way."

Silence.

He looked down to see her blue eyes were on him. There was no coldness, no aloofness. They were calculating, examining him for any expressional slip up. But he was sure there was genuine concern that shimmered just beneath the surface of those blue pools.

"I see," she finally said, albeit awkwardly. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She looked like she had more to say, but she didn't. Possibly because she didn't know how or was not willing to, Shepard could only speculate.

"Why me?"

Shepard shrugged. That answer was honestly a bit easier. "I have no one else."

"No one?" she asked, unsure or unable to believe his blunt answer.

"No."

"What about your squad?"

"You know what it's like to lead."

She nodded, "a brave face."

"Exactly."

"What about the marine?"

Shepard wasn't sure why she signaled out Ashley, but the reminder was still painful all the same, "dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

He tried to keep his stoic look, but he was finding it harder when he could see those alluring blue eyes staring back at him with genuine concern.

"She died a soldier's death."

"Parents?"

"We don't speak anymore."

"I can relate," she admitted, bitterness laced in her tone.

He remembered her brief revelation at the Cerberus facility about her father and his plans for a dynasty. At the time, he'd found it quite revolting. He still did.

"Aren't we the perfect pair? Disgraced Spectre and xenophobic terrorist?" he remarked sarcastically.

She actually smiled and gave a chuckle. "Quite."

"This is a different experience for me," she added.

He noticed that she was no longer smiling. Her eyes became more distant, slipping into her own mask. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not use to being contacted for comfort. If it's not work related, it's usually for pleasure."

"Pleasure?" Not sure what she meant by that one simple word.

"Sex."

That was a simple word that was more easily understood. "I see." He didn't know what else what to say. He could feel a gnawing feeling bubbling up in his stomach… _Jealousy?_

"Good way to relieve stress," she clarified, sounding as if she wanted to try to defend her previous statement.

He didn't comment. Again he was unsure what to say.

"Though I don't think I could do you much good in that regard at the moment," she said suddenly.

He looked up, jaw slightly agape, he could tell his face was comical as Miranda sent him a disarming, but alluring smile before adding a saucy wink.

He tried to rearrange his stoic persona before adding. "I should have contacted you earlier."

She actually laughed. A genuine laugh, it was a beautiful sound. It caused his lips to crook upward into a smile. He wanted to hear it again. He was determined to make her laugh, so that he could hear that charming sound once more.

"Perhaps you wouldn't be in your current predicament if you did."

"If I had, I'm sure I would've died a happier man," he replied. He was now unable to get the thought of them together, out of his head….

He shook his head, in an attempt to try to collect his thoughts and regain his control. It seemed to work. When he looked up at the terminal screen, he could see her perfect smile and blue eyes shimmering with mirth looking back at him.

"Problems, Commander?"

"Nothing, I'm not use to."

She quirked a perfect dark brow in his direction, "Is that so? You're use to perfectly designed beautiful woman throwing themselves at your feet?"

He shrugged, trying his best to keep his face stoic. He had experienced a similar scenario when he had become the Lion of Elysium. Young women tried to hook up with him, in an attempt to connect themselves with humanity's greatest hero. It didn't work. Shepard may be a man, but he was not a Neanderthal. He was not dumb enough to put down his guard to the flocks of girls who tried to become famous by bedding him.

"That would be an average day of my life."

"Men," she muttered, with mirth while shaking her head in amusement.

Shepard just smiled.

"So where does that leave us?"

He looked up to see she was watching him closely. He was uncertain if he could decipher what she was thinking behind those enticing blue eyes when she had asked her question. He found the inability to read her, frustrating, but charming at the same time.

He shrugged. "I don't know." He replied honestly, unsure what else to say. "I would like to say if I survive this current mission, that I wouldn't mind seeing you again." He immediately regretted the added sentence, mentally chastising himself for how cliché that sounded.

She may have noticed, but she didn't seem to mind, she actually smiled. "Yes, I would like that too."

He returned her smile, "Hopefully next time in person."

She tilted her head. "And why is that, Commander?"

"So that you can buy me dinner."

She laughed, slowly shaking her head, tresses of her raven hair falling around her face. "I thought the man was supposed to buy dinner?"

He inwardly smiled at her choice of words, because he didn't hear a no about the dinner. "True, but I am the first human Spectre. That should come with some perks."

"I see," she said, her eyes on his. "Then perhaps you would have to pay for the second dinner."

"Second dinner?" He smiled. She was very good.

"Yes, second dinner," she repeated. "It only seems fair, since I will be buying the first."

He laughed, before nodding. "Yes, that does seem fair to me."

"Good then we are agreed," she said, looking satisfied with herself. "Should I suspect your same lackadaisical communicational skills?"

"I'm sorry about that."

"As you should be."

"I promise to contact you, the moment I succeed in my mission."

"I will hold you to that, Shepard."

"Good."

A third voice broke through their conversation- "Commander?"

Shepard recognized it once to belong to his pilot. Joker's voice rained down from the overhead speakers. He turned away from Miranda, slipping into his Commander persona when he addressed a member of his crew.

"Yes, Joker what is it?"

"We are ten minutes out of the Relay, Commander."

Shepard snuck a glance over at Miranda to see she was watching him. He was sure that she was listening to the conversation very closely. Before he would have severed their connection to take this call, but now he didn't. Their brief conversation had surprisingly brought them closer together.

"Very good Joker, can you tell XO Pressley to alert Wrex, Garrus, Liara, Kaidan, and Tali that I want them suited up and to meet me in the Cockpit in five minutes."

"Will do, Commander,"

Shepard could hear the soft click that cut off his communications with Joker. He looked back to see Miranda's eyes were on his. If he didn't know better he was sure he saw a flash of disappointment flitter beneath her eyes. Perhaps even fear?

He shook his head, deflating his own ego at what he 'thought' he saw. He couldn't believe how fast the hours had flown during their conversation. He was partially disappointed that it had to end.

"I need to get going."

"Yes, I heard."

"Any luck figuring out my mission?" he smiled.

She frowned. "No, but I'm sure it will be in the news."

He laughed, "a skewered version of the events."

She nodded, "yes, but I can find the truth through the distortions."

He bet she could.

He wasn't sure what else to say. He was never very good at goodbyes, especially when you didn't make many close friends growing up aboard numerous frigates and Alliance bases. He looked up to see she too looked uncomfortable and was sure that she probably struggling with the same thing he was…

"Ergh well… goodbye," he stammered, mentally cursing himself for how lame that had sounded.

"Yes," she hesitated. "I… umm I know you'll succeed on your mission. I have faith in you."

He was caught off-guard by her choice of words, and the honesty that laced them. He was surprised that he found himself comforted with her vote of confidence.

"Thanks."

"Yes, well don't die on me. I need to take you out to dinner after-all."

Shepard laughed, welcoming the release that it gave him. "I won't, I promise."

She smiled, before she cut off the communication link between them without another word.

His screen went blank. He stared at the dark screen for several seconds. He ingrained that alluring smile into his mind while pushing himself out from behind his desk. His joints and muscles protested, aching from the hours of sitting down.

He gingerly swung his arms to loosen them, his thoughts returning to Saren and his mission.

He was going to do his duty. He was going to win. He was going to survive.

He owed Miranda that much.


	7. 6: Citadel

**I will Rise**

**By Spectre4hire**

**Chapter Six: Citadel**

It had been two days since the Citadel had been attacked. Two days when the galaxy watched in horror as an unlimited geth armada lay siege to the galactic capital. Laying waste to both the capital and the Council fleets with apparent ease. It showed just how vulnerable the seat of our galactic government was.

It was two days when Commander Shepard made a name for himself…again. He defeated Saren. He beat their dreadnought and with the Alliance was able to repel the geth fleet and save the galaxy…again.

Miranda Lawson had been one of the countless billions of people who had watched the battle as if it was a movie. Disconnected from the fact that as they watched from the safety of their homes, that millions of civilians, soldiers, and countless other lives were being killed.

She watched it from the same terminal that she had used to spend more than four hours of her time talking with Commander Shepard before his suicide mission. He had not told her what he had been up against, but she was good enough at her job to know that heavy risks were involved.

The Cerberus Operative walked through the presidium of the Citadel. In the aftermath of the battle, many parts of the Citadel had been completely destroyed, other parts lay in ruins, and the body count was still going up.

It was still so chaotic that parts of the Citadel were under mob rule. The savage lifestyle was a stark contrast to the cultured and diplomatic seat of power where the only savagery came from its politicians and merchants.

In the two days, people looted and scavenged anything they could. One of the biggest prizes was the geth dreadnaught that had rained down pieces after its destruction at the hands of the Alliance Fifth Fleet. Every government had sent experts and scavenger teams to try to take as much as they could, Cerberus was one of them.

Miranda was looking forward to finding out what had been discovered. She quietly made her way through throngs of asari, salarian, and turian politicians who had been loitering and talking amidst themselves. These were the best minds and most talented people that their people had to offer. They were all out for the same position. It was for a spot on the Citadel Council to represent their species.

The Citadel Council had been destroyed, as was _the Ascension_ during the battle of the Citadel. The rumor that was currently circulating was that Commander Shepard had allowed the Council to die. He could have saved them, but chose not to. If you were to believe the editorials and reports it was done as one final act of revenge.

Parts of the Citadel were still surprisingly untouched by the invasion. This included the banking and tourist hubs. Miranda assumed the geth were too focused on securing the Citadel Tower and fighting off C-sec to worry about such locations. She was also sure that if the geth had succeeded in their invasion, then they would have systematically wiped out all remaining districts.

But they didn't win.

The hotels that were still intact were full. Politicians, Generals, Media members, Scientists, were all gathering to help rebuild the Citadel and to fill the void that was caused at the death of the Council and at the Citadel's near complete destruction.

She walked into the elegant lobby of the hotel that she was emailed about. Asari architecture and decorations were clear signals of its origins as well as the numerous asari employees. There was no rubble or smoldering ruins. There were no sign of battle.

"How may I help you?" asked a blue skinned asari, looking up to see Miranda approach.

"I'm here to see someone," answered Miranda, stepping up to the counter. She placed her fingers on the ornate counter top.

"Name of resident?"

"A Mr. Lennon," Miranda answered, trying not to roll her eyes as she continued, "A Mr. Paul Lennon."

The asari didn't notice her expression. She was too busy typing up the name of the resident.

"Yes, he is checked in. He's in room 909."

Miranda nodded her thanks and made a beeline for the elevator. She was thankful when she was the only one occupying it. She wasn't sure if she was capable of a moody silence or pointless small talk. She needed to be alone. She needed to collect her thoughts.

She pushed the button for floor nine and waited as the elevator jerked to life and began its very slow ascent to floor nine.

She brought her hands together in front of her, in an attempt to stop them from fidgeting. She could feel her heartbeat drumming against her ribs, which coupled well with the fluttering of her stomach.

_Get a hold of yourself. _She mentally chastised herself at these displays of nervousness. She looked up to see that they were only on level three.

She sighed, _stupid slow elevators._

She could still remember how transfixed her attention was on the battle that was being broadcast on every channel. She had no doubts that Shepard was in the middle of it. She could only hope that he would be able to escape, with the Geth dreadnought destroyed, as well as the Citadel Tower. The seconds seemed to pass grindingly slow until finally it was announced through the Cerberus Network that Shepard had survived. That he lived through it.

It hadn't been less than a few seconds after being told by the Cerberus network that she received a message.

**You still owe me a dinner.**

**-JS**

She couldn't help but smile at the message.

She wasn't one for sentimentality, but she had saved the message in her private archive. She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she did catch herself over the next few hours that passed going back to that message, her heart going back to those simple six words. How those words could change how she thought, how she felt, could make her now suddenly so nervous.

She glanced up at the elevator-Level Five. _They really need to fix these elevators._

It wasn't until last night that she received an invitation to the Citadel, a location to meet at, and an alias to look up. She had easily been able to secure a safe and fast transport to get to the Citadel. She hadn't gotten his alias at first, but after a few minutes on the Extranet, she picked up on what his name referred to.

She couldn't help but wonder if it was a name for convenience or was there a sense of sentimentality towards those two men that would make him pick their names. Even after their long conversation, Miranda found herself knowing so little about the man. And yet she couldn't deny the growing attraction she felt for him.

It was something that should have been so absurd for the woman who prided herself on not allowing emotions to ruin logic. She never would allow feelings to corrupt duties. She was finding herself vulnerable to both, all because of one man…

_Why did this have to be so difficult? _She wondered to herself, her blue eyes falling once more on the elevator and bit back a sigh when she discovered that she still had three levels to go.

She knew the answer to her question. It was difficult for her, because of who she was. How she was created, how she was raised, how she was trained, how she lived.

The responsibility for those actions lay at the feet of one man…

Here she was, with a nervous stomach and sweaty palms that should have belonged to a teenager on the cusp of her first dance. Not Miranda Lawson. She was supposed to be above this, but she wasn't.

That's what was so terrifying for the Cerberus Operative.

This weakness, this vulnerability that was exposed it was all because of one man who had been her enemy! He had arrested her and was to bring her to the Alliance because of his sense of duty. She wanted to hate the man for it, but she couldn't, because she knew she would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.

Maybe that was what was so terrifying for Miranda Lawson to discover.

A soft _bing _awoke her from her stupor as she made her way to the elevator doors just as they slid open, where she almost bumped into an elcor. She just missed the large alien, avoiding it with a quick sidestep.

"Polite apology: I am terribly sorry."

"It's nothing," Miranda said, walking out of the elevator without a second glance.

"Gracious reply: Thank you, and have a good evening." The elcor lumbered into the elevator and the doors closed behind it.

Miranda could only shake her head at the mechanics of the curious aliens known as elcors. As well as wonder how it could even push the down button… She brought her attention away from the elcor and onto the hallway that she found herself in. The hallway floor was draped in elegant, richly sewn carpet of asari design, beautiful portraits splashed with multiple colors hanged between the doors as well as ornate and richly polished stands.

After reading the sign, she turned left and made her way down the corridor. She could feel knots in her stomach and could only groan at the bad timing. She stopped between rooms 905-906 because of a diamond shaped golden frame mirror that hung between the doors in lieu of a painting.

She looked at her reflection. Her black hair cascaded down her back and onto her shoulders. She had chosen to wear a form fitting sleeveless black dress. It accentuated her curves and had already snagged the attention of asari and humans alike in her route to the hotel. She was unsure if she was overdressed for the occasion, but she wanted to make a good impression. Good impressions were a must for a Cerberus Operative who had gone through numerous under cover assignments where first impressions could either make or break her assignment.

She knew she was beautiful. She knew she was smart. She knew she was talented. She knew she was ambitious. And for the last few years that was all she needed to know. She knew that she could pick any guy or girl and mold them like putty in her hand. To get them to accomplish anything she wanted or desired but she couldn't do that anymore. Not with Shepard. He was different.

What she didn't know was that was she good enough for him? She had all these qualities, and all of these skills but this man could still turn her down. The cold feeling of the unknown and rejection was a bitter pill for Miranda Lawson to swallow. She consciously tucked back a few strands of her raven hair behind her ear after realizing she couldn't look any better she continued towards his room.

The seconds seemed to grind by for the Cerberus Operative before she reached the door with the shimmering plaque that read-_909._

She lifted her hand to knock but stopped inches before reaching the door. She sighed and was becoming increasingly frustrated at how her nerves were controlling her. She was a woman of rationality and facts, not emotions and feelings.

This was degrading!

She took a deep breath, and without allowing herself time to pause, her knuckles rapped against the door.

Silence.

She could feel her heart beating faster, and the nervous rumble of her stomach. She was about to knock again, but a muffled voice from the other side of the door, caused her to stop.

"Come in."

She did. She put her hand to the handle and turned, it clicked open, pushing the door back and stepping into the hotel room.

It was richly furnished, containing multiple rooms, including a small kitchen, a well furnished living room, with beautiful plush dark blue chairs and couches. A richly polished dining room table that was tucked in one corner of the living room, placed in the shadow of a large window allowing those who ate a wonderful view of the Citadel skyline. The curtains had been pulled to block the view. She tentatively walked into the living room. Asari architecture had been placed throughout the room as paintings hung on the walls.

There was no sign of Shepard.

"Shepard?"

"In here."

She turned. Her astute training brought her attention to the closed door that she guessed would be his bedroom. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure if she should invade his privacy or wait for him out here. She found the situation very degrading and frustrating. She turned to sit down on one of the plush couches, but a sudden voice caused her to immediately stop.

"Wow."

His voice caused her heart to jerk. She looked up to see the most famous human in the galaxy step out of his room. He was dressed in simple slacks and a long sleeved shirt. His short black hair was untidy, and damp and it was evident he hadn't shaved as dark stubble covered his cheeks and chin. His blue eyes were on her, and she couldn't help but smile, as he took in her attire. Perhaps she had just recovered the upper hand.

She also knew that because of her half stand and half crouching position she had frozen in when she heard his voice; it gave him a rather revealing view of her cleavage.

His cheeks turned red before looking away.

His flushed cheeks and obvious embarrassment caught Miranda off-guard. This was the Hero of Elysium and Savior of the Citadel and here he was blushing because of her. She couldn't help but smile, beginning to realize that perhaps her nervousness was unfounded. She might not be the only one who felt nervous or awkward. That was a comforting feeling and sentiment that she latched onto.

"Sorry," he apologized, bringing his hand to the back of his neck, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

Miranda found his reaction and apology endearing and amusing.

"You… you just look fantastic."

She smiled, finding his flustered words and embarrassed expression, strangely becoming. "Thank you, Shepard."

He then looked down at his attire and frowned. "I…I've obviously under dressed."

She would've found his attire bothersome and become annoyed if this was a mission, but she couldn't, not with him.

"I'm sure you have had more pressing matters to attend to."

His face darkened at her words and for a moment she had feared she misspoke, but his smile returned but it didn't reach his eyes. He walked across the room to go into the small kitchen that was attached to the sitting room.

She noticed the limp in his left leg, the stiffness in his shoulders. He was still sore. He was still wounded from the battle. She could only wonder just how bad the injuries were if he was still having difficulties with them.

She gracefully pushed herself out her seat and approached the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. "You don't look alright."

She immediately chastised how her words had suddenly came out in a chilly aloof tone that she had grown accustomed to when dealing with inferiors within Cerberus.

He stopped at once. His shoulders stiffened and she was sure she heard him wince. "I'll be alright."

Miranda frowned. She cut the distance between them in two strides. She brought a hand to his shoulder and he immediately winced under her touch. This only caused her frown to deepen.

He jerked himself out of her touch before she could roll up his sleeve. "I'll be fine." He said gruffly, finishing the short distance into the kitchen.

"What happened?" She didn't follow him. She remained in the doorway of the kitchen, but she kept his eyes on him for any more signs of discomfort or injury.

"A ship fell on me," he deadpanned.

Miranda arched a perfect dark eyebrow. She couldn't see his face, so she was unsure if he was joking or not. She then remembered the video of the battle, of the pieces of the dreadnought that collided with the…

"You were at the Citadel Tower." It wasn't a question.

"Very astute, Miss Lawson," he said, his back still to her, opening up the fridge and began peering and shifting through the bare contents in search for something.

"What did the medics say?"

"That I was lucky to survive." He then closed the door to the refrigerator with a sigh. "Like, I needed a ship to fall one me to tell me that," he shook his head, showing his frustration with how the medics treated him. He opened the nearest cabinet and pulled out a glass. He pulled out a second glass, a silent gesture to Miranda.

She shook her head and he shrugged, returning the second glass before closing the cabinet door, and going over to the sink. He then turned the faucet; crystal clear water began to fill his glass.

"They say I'll be fit for duty in a few days."

She noticed that he didn't sound very happy with the diagnosis. "You don't sound very relieved."

"I'm not," he answered unabashed, turning off the faucet just as the water reached the glass' brim. He leaned against the counter and brought the glass to his lips.

"Why not?"

"I'm in trouble," he admitted, his blue eyes never leaving hers. She could see the emotions that flicker behind those eyes. She could practically see his inner-debate.

"You don't have to tell me." She was surprised by her own declaration. She knew that Cerberus would want answers. She wanted answers. She wanted to know as much as he did. She had a list of questions for him and the more she stayed with him, the longer the list was becoming.

He raised an eyebrow at her words, putting down his half-filled glass beside him before crossing his arms, still leaning against the counter. "And if I want to?"

She was surprised by the sincerity in his words. "I would listen."

"And?" he asked, looking a bit suspicious.

She caught on to what he was insinuating and shook her head. "I'm not with Cerberus. It's just me." Her admission caught her off-guard, as did the honest tone that laced her words. _Where did that come from?_

"I'm under suspicion," he said suddenly, his face darkening, his mood worsening.

"Suspicion?" She self-consciously rubbed her exposed arms with her hands. His cold words seemed to have stirred a sudden chill to go through the room.

"Yes," he took a sip of water before continuing. "They think I allowed the Council to die."

Miranda felt a growing anger swelling in her chest with his words. Her emotions fueled by the politics and the bureaucracy that plagued the Alliance and the Council.

"Those short-sighted fools," she hissed.

He tilted his glass to her. "Thanks."

She knitted her brows in confusion, unsure why she warranted such a response, "For what?"

"For not asking if I did."

She watched him, finish his glass of water, placing the cup down on the counter, smacking his lips together.

"They can't be trusted."

"What do you mean?"

"The Alliance," she clarified, before shaking her head and correcting herself, "Or the Council."

She looked up to see he was watching her closely. "Is that so?"

"It is."

"And Cerberus can be?"

"Yes," she answered a hint of pride in her voice. "They will do what has to be done to insure human survival."

"Survival or dominance?"

"Survival, Shepard," she inwardly frowned at the suspicion in his voice. She had hoped he was past that. He had seemed open minded and honest with her about the organization when they were trapped within the facility.

"The Alliance no longer serves humanity. They dance to the Council's tune. They seek their favor, not humanity's."

"It does seem that way."

She could feel the kindling of hope within her at his admission. She looked up, wondering if perhaps he would agree to join Cerberus, to join her, to help their cause, to serve humanity. She could still see the conflict in his blue eyes.

He ran a hand through his damp dark hair before shaking his head, as if he was trying to forcibly dump his thoughts out of his head and onto the countertop.

She was sure that the seed had planted itself within his mind. The seed had been sewn against the Alliance and the Council before she had ever appeared in his life. She could only hope the latest failings would lead Shepard to them, to her.

She could feel his eyes on her and was even more surprised that she liked that he was watching her so closely. It comforted her, pleased her, and perhaps even thrilled her?

She opened her eyes realizing that the topic needed to be changed at once. "When are you speaking with them?"

"Two days."

"Do you know what you're going to tell them?"

"No, not yet," His eyes trickled down from hers, before lingering on her figure momentarily. "I should get changed," he said, it seemed her formal dress had reminded him of their plans together.

He made a move to pass as her in the kitchen door-frame, she met his attempt by gently putting up her hands to stop him.

"We don't have to," she said, breathing in his soapy, musky scent. "Not if you don't want to."

"Backing out on our deal, Miss Lawson?" The corners of his lips tugged upwards, belaying his words.

She rolled her eyes. "No, Shepard. I'm just…" She knew the word, but she wasn't use to saying it. She wasn't use to feeling it towards others, but with him it was different. It was startling to realize that she was caring more and more about his well being then she had for any other in her life. She was caring more for him then she was for getting the facts.

"Cheap?"

She resisted rolling her eyes again at him, but looking up she could see the gratefulness in his blue eyes that he hid behind his teasing tone and jokes. "We could order in."

He looked to be mulling over the option before nodding. "That would work for me."

* * *

><p>A half an hour later, Miranda Lawson and John Shepard were eating fettuccine alfredo at the dining room table. Shepard sat at one end with Miranda sitting to his immediate left.<p>

He had cleaned up and dressed when the two were waiting for the food. He was now in a black polo shirt and a clean pair of khaki pants. Yet the casual attire couldn't mask his charisma or his muscled arms and legs. He still looked every part the soldier, every part the galactic icon.

The two ate in silence for the first few minutes. It wasn't exactly the dinner she had thought of or imagined when they made that agreement, but she wasn't about to complain. She actually enjoyed the intimate setting of them sharing a quiet meal, alone and in his room.

She delicately chewed on a grilled piece of chicken, looking up to see Shepard was twirling his noodles with his fork and spoon, before taking a bite.

He must have sensed she was looking at him, since his eyes left his plate and found hers. He offered her a small smile and a grateful nod before going back to his food.

Miranda was unsure how or if she should broach the peaceful silence that had fallen on them while they ate. She could tell just by watching him that he was enjoying it, and she didn't want to drag a conversation out of him, especially with how his last few days had been.

She couldn't blame him. No matter how curious she was with what had happened to him upon ending their video conversation those two days ago, she couldn't press the subject with him. She didn't want to push him away.

"You want to know what happened, don't you?"

She looked up to see his eyes were on hers again. "I don't have to."

"But you want to."

Miranda folded her napkin into her lap wanting to choose her words carefully. "I do, but I'm just-"

"Cautious?" he finished for her, before wiping his mouth with the back of his napkin. He offered her a friendly smile.

He took a deep breath, gently placing his napkin at the end of the table. His eyes looked more distant and when he spoke, his voice was void of his usual strength or friendliness that Miranda had found surprisingly reassuring in their previous conversations.

"We had arrived at the Citadel. It was crawling with Geth and mercenaries."

"Mercenaries?" Miranda couldn't stop herself. She hadn't remembered any details about mercenaries working with Saren and the Geth.

"Yeah, krogan mercenaries, there was a lot of them." He stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork.

She filed away that revealing piece of information for later, allowing him to continue.

"We had reached the Tower. We were going to confront Saren. He needed to be stopped if we were going to destroy Sovereign."

"Sovereign?"

"The Geth juggernaut ship."

She noticed the frown that appeared on his lips when he gave the brief explanation. There was something else to the ship, something that he wasn't telling her.

Miranda felt a bristle of annoyance that he was holding back information from her. That there were things that he was guarding. It was a sign that he still didn't trust her, that he was still unsure about her. It wasn't just annoyance she felt, she felt a twinge of…

"The Council Fleet was getting pummeled including _the Ascension_." He brought up the goblet of wine that they had ordered with their meal. He took a small sip before wrinkling his nose in disgust. He put the glass back down on the table, but not before pushing it further away from his plate.

Miranda had to hide a smile at his reaction to the taste. It was almost childish. She, on the other hand was very much enjoying the bottle that they had ordered.

She realized that he hadn't mentioned Saren's fate or what he did when he confronted him. It was an elusive piece of information that not even Cerberus or its contacts could discover.

She voiced her question, after taking a long sip of wine. "What had happened to Saren?"

"He killed himself."

"He-what?" asked Miranda unsure if she heard him correctly. She was glad that she had not been drinking the wine when he answered, because she was sure she would have choked or spat it out. Of all the scenarios of Saren's fate that she had thought of, that was not one of them.

Shepard gave a somber nod, closing his eyes. "He realized his mistakes and sought to atone them."

She arched a dark brow in his direction. She didn't doubt the validity in the statement, but she could see that several pieces of information were being withheld. She doubted Saren suddenly had an epiphany right there and then and decided to kill himself. No, there was something to it. Something he wasn't telling her.

He offered her a shrug, going back to cutting up his grilled chicken. "I talked to him."

"You talked to him?"

Shepard frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

She was dumbfounded by how casual he sounded with the topic.

"Lives were at-stake Shepard," she inwardly flinched at the coldness in her voice.

"You mean, I should have went in guns blazing?" he asked, surprisingly he didn't sound upset or annoyed at her constant questions or interruptions. He sounded almost amused.

She grimaced at his words. When she thought about it, it sounded like the best scenario, but he made it sound as if it was the most idiotic choice you could make.

"He was still there, Miranda." She was confused by his choice of words, but didn't interrupt him as he continued. "I could see his regret. He wasn't a willing convert. He had been swept into it. He deserved what little mercy I could offer him."

Miranda though unsure of what he specifically meant, she did understand the underlying message of what he was trying to say. She only hoped that he would fill in the holes to his story. She found it frustrating that there were parts and by the way he told it large parts that he was withholding, but she wasn't going to push or press him. She would wait.

"Once Saren died, it wasn't long after I received communication from Joker who had rallied the Alliance Fifth Fleet and they were waiting by the relay." He paused holding up a glass of water, he took a sip before continuing.

"They were ready to come in and save the Council's ship."

He put down his cup. "The fleet had been decimated by the Geth and their dreadnaught." He sighed before looking up at her. "It was either throw away the Alliance Fifth Fleet to save a handful of ships including the Council and risk losing to the Geth and the dreadnought."

"Or wait and unleash the Fifth Fleet on the Geth ships."

He shook his head, the pain etched into his facial features. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "My squad was divided. Garrus, Kaidan, and Liara wanted to save the Council, but Wrex and Tali were against it."

He picked up his fork and knife and began to viciously saw a piece of grilled chicken on his plate while he spoke.

"A Council can be replaced. We needed to save our strength. I needed to fulfill my duty. I needed to stop Saren's plans."

He was cutting his chicken with so much strength and vigor, Miranda was sure that he was going to cut right through the plate.

He then tossed the utensils on the table in frustration. The silverware clattered across the table as he threw up his arms.

"I stopped Saren! I did what was asked of me. I did my duty!"

He sat there in silence, crossing his arms over his chest, which was rapidly rising and falling. His breathing was heavy, trying to reign in his emotions after he had unleashed his pent up anger and irritation that had been building up throughout the story.

"You're right," Miranda cut in honestly. She believed he made the right call. She couldn't fault his decision. She applauded it. He did what others couldn't or wouldn't do. He knew what was at stake and handled the pressure and situation admirably.

She found herself more impressed with the man before her. A part of her wanted to reach over and gently grab his hand, but she restrained herself. She needed to keep her emotions in check, emotions that were evolving the more she was around him.

He looked up, jaw clenched. "You really believe that?"

"Yes, Shepard, sacrifices have to be made in the name of duty."

"They just won't always support you for it."

She remembered those words. She had told him them in the facility after he had arrested her. She was surprised he still remembered. She looked up wondering if he was bitter or angry at her words, but he was neither. His face was stoic, his jaw clenched, his blue eyes reflecting his frustration at the Council and the Alliance.

His right hand was on the table, his fingers restlessly tapping the edge of the ornate tabletop.

She looked down at his hand, bringing her hands up from her lap. She looked at his hand again, before looking up at him. He wasn't looking at her. His attention was on the window, on the Citadel skyline.

She took a deep breath realizing that she was walking a razor's edge with Shepard. She slowly brought her hand across the table and gently put it on his. His hand jerked slightly, alarmed at the sudden contact, but to her relief he didn't pull away. His eyes went from their hands to her eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat when he leaned across the table. She recognized the movement at once. It felt as if time had all but stopped as he inched closer to her. She could feel her heart drumming against her ribs in anticipation of what would come.

She hesitated.

She and he were standing on the precipice of their growing relationship. If they went through with this, this would be the point of no return.

Miranda Lawson who stood by facts and logic, never to allow her to be controlled by desires or emotions, threw caution to the wind, cutting the distance between them as their lips met in a searing kiss.

It was not as she had expected. She was expecting a thrust of his tongue, an over-eager young man trying to prove his talents, trying to prove worthy of her attention. This was different. This was so much better, she felt as if an electrical current went up her spine.

In that moment, there were no complaints for Miranda Lawson. She simply enjoyed the moment she found herself in.

* * *

><p>Miranda stirred under the covers, blinking in the darkness. She could feel movement beside her. She knew it was from Shepard who was still sleeping.<p>

This should have been the part of the evening that the Cerberus Operative would slip out of the covers. She would gather her clothes, and leave without a glance or a word.

But Miranda didn't.

She stayed.

The no response was deeply troubling for her.

She thrived on independence. She knew what sex was. It was a release, not a form of intimacy for her when she had experienced it in prior occasions. It was not an expression of love or emotions. It was a way to relieve stress. It was simply pleasure away from business.

It was not something she became attached to, nor would she with her partners. And yet if this was like all the other times she had done it, then why was she still with him? Why hadn't she slipped out?

The cold, aloof Cerberus Director persona that had dominated her personality and had formed the Ice Queen mask screamed within her psyche. It demanded her to leave. It lectured her on protocol. It was pointing out her emotional mistakes. This was a foolish attachment. This was a detrimental action.

It was all she had known.

These were the words, the temperament that guided her choices and actions since before she joined Cerberus and only perfected it in her time with the organization. And yet at this very moment, she lay in bed with Shepard, she felt detached to this persona. She was overcome with different feelings. Different sets of emotions that seemed to stir within her when she was around this man.

She found a growing amount of comfort nestling within her as she stayed where she was. She knew that this was a man who respected and cared for her. A man who was able to see pass her Ice Queen persona, who admired her strong will, her set of skills. He cared more what she did with her gifts, instead of who gave them to her.

This feeling of acceptance from a man she hardly knew was reassuring to a woman who even with all her skill and talents had her own demons, her own insecurities. That gnawed behind the walls that she tried so hard to keep up, to keep people away.

She was confident that these growing feelings were not one sided. She was sure that she could convince him to join Cerberus, to join her. She knew that the Alliance, the Council had tried his patience. Their mistake would be to her advantage.

She was sure that if he truly knew what Cerberus was about. If he saw it with his own eyes, he would join them. He would join her.

Shepard stirred beside her, before draping an arm over her. She couldn't help but allow a small smile to show in the dark before she nestled beside him. She closed her eyes, one thought carrying her into a peaceful slumber.

_Maybe, just maybe this could work._


	8. 7: Duty

**I will Rise**

**By Spectre4hire**

**Chapter Seven: Duty**

"Can I get another one, please?"

Shepard emphasized his request by waving his empty glass to a passing asari waitress. She took the drink with a lingering glance before she headed back over to the bar.

The first human Spectre sat alone in the corner of the hotel bar. He had just met with the newly formed Council, headed by the first appointed human councilor- Donnel Udina.

His need of a drink only being strengthened as he recalled the conversation that transpired with Udina and the other Council members; he looked up in hope of his drink but was disappointed when he saw no new sign of his drink coming.

_This is your fault; _he winced at the reminder because he knew there was probably a bit of truth in the thought. It didn't have to be Udina as the first human councilor; it could have very well been Anderson.

If it had been Anderson, Shepard doubted the meeting would have gone as poorly as it just did. The more he thought about substituting Udina with Anderson, the more appealing the scenario became. Having Anderson's military background would be a welcome change amidst the politicians and political bullshit. He was a man of action, something the Council lacked.

Shepard mentally cursed himself at how he had mishandled the opportunity that had presented itself before him. He had been given a chance to lend a voice to whom he believed should be the first human Councilor, but in his lack of foresight and loathsome attitude towards politics, he had decided to remain mute.

His blunder had caused him to become stuck with Udina. Shepard didn't think it was possible but Udina had done it. He had become even more of an ass, as a councilor then he ever had been as an ambassador.

"Here's your drink, sir."

He looked up to see the waitress had returned. He nodded his thanks as he took the drink from her. He bowed his head and began to nurse the whiskey.

The waitress though didn't leave. She stood over him. He could feel her eyes on him. He inwardly sighed. This was what he got for deciding to drink in public instead of the private sanctity that his hotel room provided him.

"Aren't you-"

"No, I'm not," he cut off brusquely.

She frowned, either at being cut off or at the disappointing answer, but realizing that he wasn't going to talk or apologize, she walked off.

The only reason why he wasn't in his hotel room was because he was waiting for a friend. He looked up at his omni-tool to see that his friend was late. He noticed a handful of humans taking their seats at a booth not too far from his table.

_Shit, _he cursed when two of them looked his way. He immediately lowered his head, shifting in his chair ever so slightly and casually as not to draw attention to the act.

It was a curse for Shepard.

He hadn't wanted the praise or attention he received after Elysium or the glamor and prestige that it came with. He saw it as a burden to his duties as a soldier.

Then Torfan happened. He was given more attention, but instead of the praise and glory that came with Elysium, it was scrutiny and protest. He remembered those dark days, as he was given his new name- the Butcher of Torfan.

The press never bothered him. Just as he made sure not to make his actions at Elysium inflate his ego, he made sure his actions at Torfan didn't shake his confidence or his decision making. To him, the two battles were the same. He was asked to do a duty, and he did. The only difference was that one praised him and the other one condemned him.

Just like his actions during the Battle of the Citadel.

He defeated Saren and stopped the Geth invasion, so he was praised for his duty. However, his choice in not saving the Council when being presented with the opportunity caused him to be condemned by the newly formed Council.

He had done his duty. He did what they could not. He could make the choices that needed to be made. He looked at the bigger picture, they couldn't. He saw Reapers, they only saw Geth incursions.

He could still remember Miranda's words from a few nights ago. Her warning of the Alliance and the Council, and how that only Cerberus should be trusted…

Shepard sighed, pushing out any thoughts on the Alliance, Council and Cerberus. He was too tired to begin contemplating who was worse.

He instead allowed his mind to drift back to the alluring Cerberus Operative. Even during their first encounter in the Cerberus facility, when she was the supposed 'enemy,' he had respected her strength, determination, and discipline.

In their brief time together he discovered there was more to the aloof Cerberus Operative, then her cold demeanor. She was an alluring enigma to the Alliance soldier, _the forbidden fruit_, he thought but without it being too cliche.

His feelings for the woman continued to evolve even after they went their different ways. His talk with her before Ilos was the balm that his restless spirit needed before embarking on the suicide mission through the Mu Relay.

He hadn't seen her since the night they spent together, two days ago. They exchanged a few messages in that time and hopefully the two would meet up later tonight.

He allowed himself a smile at the thought of seeing her again tonight. He couldn't help it. The more he was around her. The more he was drawn to her. He was sure that this growing attachment was mutual even with the emotional complexities that came with it.

She too had a sense of duty. A sense of knowing what needed to be done to accomplish it. She could see the big picture. She understood his actions at Torfan, and with sacrificing the Council. It wasn't her validation that appealed to Shepard, but her ability to not allow her emotions to entangle her judgment.

It was the same thing that he prided himself on.

It was something others lacked. After Torfan, the Alliance allowed the media to guide their thinking. Now the Council was allowing politics to guide their own beliefs as they condemned him for allowing the first Council to die.

"The short-sighted fools," he hissed.

"Sounds like someone I know."

Shepard blinked, shaking himself from his stupor and allowing his thoughts on the charming Cerberus operative to ebb into the back corners of his mind. He looked up and smiled at the sight of the friend he had been waiting for.

Garrus stood over him, his small blue eyes examining Shepard closely. "You look… Gassy?"

The first human Spectre snorted in amusement before shaking his head as he watched his friend take the seat across from him. He was quick to notice the mirth in the turian's eyes.

"Oh," Garrus's mandibles twitched. "I'm still not good at guessing human expressions."

"Obviously," Shepard drawled, before falling silent when the asari waitress arrived to take Garrus's order. He made a point to not look up, keeping his eyes downcast until she left with his friend's order.

"An ex?"

Shepard could tell by his tone that Garrus seemed to be enjoying himself. "No, just trying to avoid attention."

"So you chose to sit in a crowded hotel bar?" Garrus then jerked his head towards the monitors at the front. Shepard followed his friend's gaze and groaned when he saw his own face flashing on all of them as the news anchor was replaying his recent meeting with the Council.

"Not very subtle, Shepard," Garrus commented as the two friends returned their attention to their table. "But then again you were never very good at being subtle."

Shepard took a sip of his whiskey. He waited until the burning sensation went down before speaking. "We can't always be like you."

Garrus brought his hand forward, examining his talons in a feign attempt to look nonchalant. "No, we can't be."

"Here, you go sir," the asari waitress returned, presenting Garrus with a tall glass filled with a dark greenish liquid.

He could feel her eyes on the back of his head, as Shepard continued to avoid her stare.

"Isn't he-?"

"My brother?" finished Garrus. "Yeah, how did you know?"

Shepard laughed into his hand. He could see the asari waitress stiffen at the joke, as she tried to keep her annoyance out of her expression, since she didn't want it to affect her tip. She excused herself from their table without another word.

"Brothers?" Shepard couldn't help himself but ask.

Garrus shrugged. "What you don't see any family resemblance?"He asked, bringing his talons to his face.

"Not unless I slap on some ugly looking face paint." It was Shepard's turn to joke.

Garrus chuckled. "Fair enough," He took a sip of his drink. "But just for the record you couldn't pull off the face paint." He put the glass down. "It's a certain look that I'm going for."

"Ugly to uglier?" guessed Shepard, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

"Hah-hah," Garrus said, with a sigh. "Now, if we're done making fun of my peoples' heritage?" Garrus paused, the mirth evident, bellying his words. "Maybe we can move on?"

"Move on?" Shepard repeated, "But I don't think I can live without you."

Garrus chuckled. "No, I don't suppose you could. I mean if I wasn't watching your back, you would have been dead by now."

"Maybe, maybe not," Shepard shrugged, enjoying the release that his banter with his friend was providing him. It was a soothing remedy, and a pleasant conversation which helped him forget all about Udina and the Council.

"So word is that it didn't go well with the Council?"

Shepard groaned, running a hand over his face. He had spoken too soon…

"Is this payback for the face paint remark?"

Silence, Shepard was expecting a rebuttal whether joke or reprimand, but neither came. Confused, in his friend's unusual silence, he looked to see that his turian friend had sobered. Garrus no longer showed any of his previous mirth, the turian looked at him with seriousness in his eyes and what Shepard believed was a more stoic or at least less friendly expression then what he was use to with Garrus.

"What is it, Garrus?"

"You were right, Shepard."

"What?" Shepard now was really confused. "What are you talking about?"

"About the previous Council," Garrus explained. "When we were on the Citadel, and you had a choice. You made the right one."

"Why are you saying this?"

Garrus didn't appear to have heard him, as his attention went back to the monitors that were recapping Shepard's meeting with the Council.

"It is easier to form a new Council then it is to rebuild a fleet." He gestured to the monitor. "They made a new Council in only two days! It would take years to rebuild an armada, possibly decades…" Garrus turned his attention back to Shepard. "I –ergh- just thought you should know."

"Thanks," Shepard said sincerely, aware that the simple word was inadequate in explaining just how thankful he was for his friend's support. He hadn't made his choice based on popular support or in wanting to win friends. He did it in the name of Duty. A banner he sometimes believed he held alone.

"Even after today's meeting," Shepard began; inwardly wincing as memories of the lectures came flooding back. "I would make the same choice, every time."

"I would support you every time, Shepard," Garrus remarked. "I'm with you to the end whether it be rogue spectres, Geth armies, or Reapers. You can count on me."

"I know I can," Shepard reached across the table to pat his friend on the shoulder. "And I'm thankful that you're with me."

"Someone has to teach you style, Shepard."

Shepard laughed. "I have plenty of style. I just don't prefer to show it hiding behind crates in the middle of a fight."

"Yeah, I suppose jumping into the teeth of a regiment of Geth is more stylistic then precision and patience."

"We should get going," he said, pushing himself out of his seat, careful to keep his back to the closest table to them. He, Garrus, and some of the Normandy crew were saying their goodbyes to Tali and Wrex.

The two alien crew members who were instrumental in stopping Saren were leaving the Citadel tonight and some of the crewmen thought that the two heroes needed a proper send off.

Garrus nodded in agreement, finishing his drink as he did before standing up and putting down his glass. He went to his omni-tool to pay but Shepard stopped him.

"This one's on me," Shepard said, his own omni-tool alit as he paid for the drinks and left what he thought was a generous tip to a waitress who wouldn't stop gawking and prodding him. "What's the point of the fancy Spectre pay if I don't spend it?"

"What's the point of having a fancy Spectre friend if he doesn't pick up the tabs?" countered Garrus.

"Fair point," Shepard chuckled. He sidestepped Garrus, going to the turian's right so that he could avoid being recognized by the booth that was filled with humans.

Garrus seemed to be finding his behavior rather amusing, "Afraid of giving out a few autographs?"

"No, I just don't want to deal with any more Conrad Verner type of fans…"

* * *

><p>The final get together for <em>the Normandy<em> crew had gone better then Shepard would have expected. They had gathered at the hotel that _the Normandy_ crew was being put up in by the Alliance. It was a small thank you to the men and women who risked their lives in going to Ilos before leading the Fifth Fleet in victory against Sovereign and the Geth.

With all of Shepard's accomplishments, including the more recent ones in his fight against Saren; he took a particular sense of pride in the integration between his Alliance crew and his alien squad-mates.

It had started off shaky with bad blood, mistrust and suspicion on both sides, but feelings cooled as people got to know individuals and not stereo-types. In this mission, they united under a common purpose and goal that went beyond allegiances and species. They were united to stop a threat that wouldn't discriminate its victims if Saren and Sovereign were to be successful. It was a point that Shepard stressed during the high tensions that filled _the Normandy_ during its beginning campaign

Now, they were friends, trust and loyalty forged under harsh conditions that could not be replicated. Shepard couldn't be prouder, since he too considered Garrus, Wrex, Liara, and Tali, four of his closest friends. He was thankful for each one of them, and wasn't sure if he could have defeated Saren without their help as well as Kaidan and Ashley's.

He was disappointed that Wrex and Tali would not be joining _the Normandy_ in its next tour, but he understood their reasoning. Like him, they both had a sense of duty that they believed needed to be pursued.

Tali, who was hoping to finish her Pilgrimage wanted to return to the Fleet and to her people. She like all Quarians had a strong sense of duty and service to her people, which Shepard admired and respected.

Wrex had decided to return to the krogan home-world of Tuchanka, in hopes of rallying his dissatisfied and scattered people under the banner of his clan, Urdnot. Shepard was pleased that his friend was taking steps in trying to strengthen his people and to bring back some of their former glory.

He now stood in an elevator with Garrus, Wrex, and Tali. His 'alien' squad, who went to hell and back in an effort to stop Saren, their bond went further than combat. It was a strength and trust with one another that could only be forged in such unique circumstances such as their chase for Saren. Their fates were linked to Shepard, but their relationships could only be solidified in the time to come, not weakened.

"Why are these elevators always so slow?" grumbled Wrex.

"It gives us a chance to talk," Garrus chimed in. "You know Wrex, so that we can bond."

Shepard knew the truth in Garrus's joke. He couldn't count the number of times he listened to his squad exchange friendly banter and honest observations in these very elevators.

The elevator gave a soft _bing_, signaling that it arrived at the proper level for civilian traffic control. The squad exited the elevator finding them on a long catwalk that branched off towards the numerous docking and departing frigates and shuttles.

"I'm over here," Tali said, signaling to a beat up looking shuttle. It was a patchwork of welding and ship parts. The ship like all quarian ships was dated. This one looked at least to Shepard's opinion over fifty years. A quarian who Shepard deduced was the pilot was waiting by the airlock conversing with two other quarians who looked to be taking passage on the ship back to the Fleet.

Tali swooped onto Garrus in a swift hug which caught the turian completely off-guard. He awkwardly patted her back. "Careful Tali, I don't want to puncture your suit."

"Don't do anything too stupid," she joked, as she pulled away.

Garrus smiled, before gesturing to Shepard. "I'll leave the stupid things to our Commander." This earned a chuckle and murmurs of agreement from Wrex and Tali.

"You fight well, Tali' Zorah," Wrex proclaimed as he eyed the youngest squad member up and down.

"You too Wrex," Tali replied, un-phased by the krogan's stare or brusque demeanor.

"Don't try and hug me," he warned.

"I'd rather a hug a Geth trooper."

Wrex chuckled, before giving her a subtle but respectful head nod, "Do your people proud."

"You too," Tali replied, before turning her attention to him. "I just wanted to say thank you, Shepard." She stepped forward, within arm's reach of him, wringing her hands in front of her, appearing nervous and unsure if she should hug him or not.

Shepard sensing her worry and apprehension took initiative by opening up his arms, to engulf the young quarian into a hug which she returned with fervor. "I couldn't have completed my Pilgrimage without your help Shepard."

"Yes, you would have," he dismissed. "You do honor to your people, Tali' Zorah." He pulled away from the quarian, unsure and unable to gauge her expression due to her face-plate. "Your people have a bright path, Tali, especially if you help lead them."

"Thank you Shepard," her voice piquing at the compliment she had received. "You don't know how much that means coming from you."

Shepard smiled, gently patting her shoulder. "Keelah Se'lai."When Tali didn't respond right away, he feared that he had botched her language or worse insulted her. "I'm sorr-"

"Keelah Se'Lai, Shepard," she replied, before giving one final wave to her new friends, she went off to the shuttle where the quarians had been watching Shepard and his party but as soon as Tali turned to join them. The eavesdropping quarians immediately turned away and tried to look busy to avoid suspicion at being caught in their snooping.

"Can that even fly?" Garrus remarked softly, as they watched Tali load onto the shuttle.

"Only the quarians," Shepard replied, with a shake of his head. He had to hand it to the nomadic people; they truly were remarkable mechanics and engineers. The shuttle they currently were looking at, only offering further proof to their mechanical expertise.

Shepard, Wrex, and Garrus went further down the transport hub to Wrex's waiting shuttle. They didn't have to go far as they soon arrived at his. It was larger than Tali's had been, and was marred with scorch marks and other signs of battle. It looked like it had seen better days, Shepard was sure that it had survived more than a few firefights.

Standing outside of the shuttle were two burly looking krogan warriors, both armed and armored, watching Shepard and his company's movement carefully, wary of any signs of trouble.

Wrex gave the two krogan a subtle but commanding nod, which the two must have taken as an order as they shuffled back into the shuttle, priming the engines and preparing to take off. Wrex then turned back to face them.

"Don't expect me to gush or cry or anything about leaving you behind," Wrex announced promptly.

"Don't worry Wrex, you know we leave the crying and gushing to Garrus," Shepard joked, stepping forward to his krogan brother-in-arms.

Wrex chuckled at this, a low grumbling noise. "You proved me wrong, Shepard. I didn't think humans could make good warriors or leaders." He paused, examining Shepard. "But you're both and I would proudly look for you on the battlefield if we are ever forced to be opponents."

"I'm honored, Wrex," Shepard replied, with some hesitation not knowing how else to respond to such an out of place remark for the first human Spectre. He was silently hoping that day or battle would never come.

"Uniting the Krogan," Wrex mused. "Ha! I'm sure we would have better luck uniting the varren and pyjacks into a more formidable fighting force then the krogan."

"If anyone can do it, Wrex, you could," Shepard admitted honestly to his friend. "You have the strength and the foresight to help your people regain their honor."

"I'm still not going to hug you Shepard," Wrex replied, but he did extend his hand. "Hunt well my friend."

Shepard took the offered hand and shook, unable to suppress a small smirk, "You too, Wrex."

"Shepard." Wrex gave the word with a nod, before turning to Garrus. "You're not bad for a turian."

"Don't get too soft Wrex, on your little vacation."

"Ha!" Wrex replied, sounding amused before he shook Garrus's hand too. He then left the two friends without another word.

"Well Shepard, it looks like we are down to just the dynamic duo," Garrus remarked, stepping beside Shepard as human and turian watched the krogan shuttle leave.

"So we're the dynamic duo, now?"

Garrus shrugged, "I think it works better then the talented turian, plus one."

"So now I'm just the plus one?"repeated an amused Shepard as he and Garrus made their way to the elevator.

"I'm just calling it how I see it, Shepard."

* * *

><p>"You're late."<p>

Shepard could only smirk at the greeting he received, slipping inside of his hotel room, closing the door behind him. He turned to see Miranda had made herself comfortable in his absence. She was sitting on his sofa, a data-pad in her hand. She was dressed in one of her skin tight suits, this one with orange and white trimming. He wasn't one to complain about her choice of attire since it accentuated her curves quite nicely.

"Is that how you greet your host?"

He could see the smile briefly flitter across her features before she enveloped the slip up, schooling her control, but she did allow a roll of her eyes.

"A host isn't supposed to be late."

Shepard looked at his omni-tool to see that he was only a few minutes late. He had been held up in trying to 'lose' Garrus who wanted to get drinks after they said goodbye to Wrex and Tali. He knew when he shook him, that he drew suspicion from his turian friend.

He held up his arms. "Here I am."

"Here you are," she repeated, gracefully pushing herself out of her seat to approach him. He watched as her eyes studied him closely as she closed in on him, she seemed to be studying his every feature, looking him up and down.

She stopped herself within arms-reach of him, acting as if a large chasm was separating the two of them. She stood awkwardly, her arms to her side. For all of her confidence and skill, she still had her faults. One of them was being her inability to show her emotion by either words or touch. He found these faults just as appealing as her wide array of skills.

Shepard reached out, his knuckles grazing against her cheek. He could see the instinctive smile come to her lips at the touch. He then brought his hand through her dark curls, brushing a few loose tresses away from her face.

He then leaned forward tentatively, grazing his lips over hers, she replied to the kiss, deepening it as she brought her hands to his chest, while he wrapped his around her waist.

Only the need of oxygen brought the two lovers apart.

She smiled, behind heavy lidded eyes.

Shepard returned with his own boyish smirk. He had forgotten just how intoxicating her presence was. Her touch, her scent, her taste was captivating his senses, his instincts clamoring for more contact, just more of her.

He leaned in to add another kiss, but she stopped him, "wait, Shepard." She let loose a breath as she turned away from him, her fingers going through her hair as she returned to her seat on the sofa.

Shepard followed, confused and surprised by the sudden shift in behavior. "Miranda what's going on?"

"I have something important that needs to be said."

He frowned, as he watched her persona instantly form into her cold, calculating demeanor. "And here I thought you came all this way for me?"

"Shepard, this isn't easy," she said, defusing his attempt to lighten the mood. He noticed the conflict in her blue eyes. Her expression alone was enough for him to send up warning flags.

"What do you mean?" He wasn't sure that he liked where this conversation was leading.

"You need to know the truth," she said, still not answering his question, continuing to remain vague in her answers.

He didn't join her on the sofa. He instead stood across from it, across from her, allowing a small ornate ebony table to separate the two of them. "And what is that?"

She took a steady breath, and met his gaze before speaking. "The Illusive Man is very interested in what you have been doing the past year."

"The Illusive man?"

"He is the leader of Cerberus."

"I see," said Shepard slowly, thoughts and suspicions bubbling up into his consciousness, trying to put together the puzzle that he was being presented with.

"He believes you, Shepard," Miranda proclaimed. "He can see the threat behind the Geth and Saren. He knows about the Reapers."

Shepard kept his face stoic as his eyes lingered on Miranda's. He could see the trust and confidence in her stance as she spoke about this 'Illusive man.' He could tell that this 'Illusive man' had earned her trust.

"The Reapers?" he said, feigning ignorance and obliviousness. He didn't want to show his hand too soon.

Miranda's lips crooked into a smile. "Don't be coy, Shepard."

"I'm not," he replied defensively, bristling at her patronizing tone. He inwardly chastised himself for allowing his emotions to seep into his tone. "I'm just curious with how your leader can come up with these… speculations?"

"Cerberus is very well-funded Shepard," Miranda replied casually. "You saw that at our facility."

"I also saw your experiments," Shepard observed.

She frowned. "We're more than that, Shepard! We're a lot more then husks or rachni. We care about humanity. We want to preserve our species not to be overwhelmed or enslaved by the others."

Shepard could feel the temperature in the room plummeting a few degrees by her icy tone. She was defending this organization as if her life was depending on it. She truly was a loyalist to their cause.

"You have moles," Shepard deduced in realizing how Cerberus had gotten very sensitive information that only the Council and Alliance Brass should know.

"We have sponsors and donors," corrected Miranda. "Who are sensitive and like-minded to our cause."

"Who sell you information," Shepard said, with a shake of his head, his disappointment in these Alliance officials growing. He realized that very few seemed capable of trust in this galaxy. He had thought that Miranda had been one of them the last time they were together, but perhaps he had been mistaken.

"Information is a powerful resource," Miranda agreed. "But that is not the point, Shepard. We are willing to help you. The Illusive man is willing to fund you millions of credits into helping you research and fight the Reapers."

Shepard was silent, shifting on the balls of his feet while he mulled over her revelation. He would be lying to say that this offer wasn't tempting. He would be lying if he said that this was all that he had been asking of the Alliance and the Council.

"The Council and the Alliance are taking steps," he lied, wanting to gauge just how much Intel Miranda had on the situation.

"They're sending you out to fight Geth," Miranda said with a shake of her head. "GETH! Shepard, we both know they are not the real threat. This is nothing more but a distraction. It is an errand, Shepard, a way to keep you busy."

"They have promised to look into Ilos," Shepard said, knowing that she was right. His latest mission was nothing more than a distraction. It was a way to keep him off of their back in the aftermath of the Battle of the Citadel.

Miranda snorted. "You don't actually believe them, do you Shepard?"

"Why shouldn't I?" he countered, trying to inject a defensive tone in an argument that he knew was crumbling around him.

"You don't believe that," she successfully observed. "Don't follow them Shepard."

"Follow Cerberus?" he said, crossing his arms while he paced in front of her. He didn't turn in her direction, nor acknowledge her lingering look as he walked.

"Cerberus will give you free reign," she countered.

"As long as I dance to the Illusive man's tune," he argued. "It would be no different than if I was with the Spectres or the Alliance."

"You would have me," Miranda proclaimed silently.

_More tempting then she would know, _he thought, but he was not going to admit it. He inwardly sighed, realizing that he was at an impasse that could lead to serious ramifications for many across the galaxy.

If he joined Cerberus, he would immediately ostracize himself with the Galactic community. He would be seen as a terrorist by both the Council and the Alliance. In joining them, he would sever any hopes of uniting the galaxy to face this Reaper threat.

He may loathe the Council and the politics behind it, but they and the Alliance were still his best option. They offered him the most resources, connections, and clout to actually organize a sizable defense to thwart the Reapers when they revealed themselves.

They had promised to look into Ilos, while he took care of the Geth outposts in the fringes of Council space. Whether or not they planned on keeping their word was another matter entirely. However, he knew the Council held a great interest in studying the Mu relay and Ilos which had only been rumored and inaccessible until now. So there was lingering hope that they would look into the prothean planet, which would lead them to Vigil, who would verify the Reaper threat.

He ran a hand through his short hair, but he was unable to shake the thought of joining Cerberus. In reality if he joined them, he didn't have to announce it to the galaxy. He could be covert, or simply disappear from Council space to help prepare against the Reapers. But the question remained, could Cerberus really be a better option than his current one?

It was with this deduction that Shepard knew his answer. It was too big of a risk at the moment for him to make. He stopped his pacing and turned to face Miranda who had been especially quiet and exceedingly patient as he had worked through the offer.

"I'm going to have to decline the offer."

She frowned. He could tell that his answer went against what she was expecting. She allowed her emotions to show briefly in her disbelief, before she regained her composure. Shepard noting that her chilly demeanor only became frostier with his answer. "You can't?"

"Yeah, I can't," he said, finding the words more difficult a second time to repeat.

"So you will allow yourself to be continued to be manipulated or worst, ignored by the Council and the Alliance?"

Shepard bristled at her tone, and the words she used. He could recognize the disappointment in her voice. He opened his mouth to counter her, but he closed his mouth when a new thought came to him.

A new theory was circulating in his mind, one that was only gathering strength and momentum. The more he began to think about the suspect circumstances of his and Miranda's encounters.

It was a cold revelation, which chilled his insides.

"That's why you're here."

She blinked, "what?"

Shepard shook his head, his hands clenching into fists as he put the truth together. He had been a fool not to see it all along! To think she was different, to think she was acting outside of Cerberus when she met with him. It had been a foolish notion that he had desperately clasped to, when his feelings changed for her.

"When you gave me your contact information, the messages, our relay conversation, your wanting to meet with me after my mission with Saren. It was all a set up wasn't it?" He looked up to see she wanted to object, she wanted to cover it up, to lie, but he wouldn't let her.

"This was an elaborate set up by your 'Illusive man' to lure me to your organization!"

"No, Shepard," Miranda said, cutting into his rant.

He frowned, opening his mouth to rebut, but she sent him a frosty glare that caused him to pause.

"You're wrong John," she said, "On all accounts."

"Am I?" Shepard asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. "So I wasn't your assignment and this invite was nothing more than casual and spontaneous?"

"He did know that I had met with you," admitted Miranda. "It was in the reports after I was rescued by the Cerberus commandos."

"So he did orchestrate our meetings?"

"NO," Miranda argued. "He didn't Shepard, you have to believe me."

"Why should I?"

"I pursued you for my own interest."

Her blunt admission caught him off-guard. "What are you talking about?"

Miranda sighed. "I thought you would be an asset for Cerberus, I had thought that if you saw another side of Cerberus then you would be more than willing to join us."

"You're not really declaring your innocence, Miss Lawson," Shepard said stiffly, crossing his arms.

"I know, but you deserve to hear the truth, Shepard," she replied, not bothered by his intense stare or hostile tone.

He turned from her, his attention going to the door, and he even made a few steps in that direction. He believed it would be better to just leave, and not to listen to her.

"John, please?"

The mix of using his name and her pleading tone caused him to stop his approach to the door. He could hear the plea in her voice, the desperation in her words in wanting to catch his attention by using his first name.

He sighed, his eyes lingering on the door, but he made no attempt to leave. He wanted answers, and he wouldn't get them if he left, he knew that. So he took a seat at the edge of the sofa, putting some distance between himself and her.

He wasn't sure if he was going to regret his next two words or not, but his mind was made up. He would stay and hear her out. He needed to know the truth. He needed to know what was real and what wasn't. He made no attempt to look in her direction, fixing his attention on the wall straight ahead of them.

"I'm listening."

"I did want to recruit you into Cerberus, but something changed."

"Yeah, and what was that?" asked Shepard, still refusing to look at her.

"I…I began to foster feelings for you, John."

That did it. He was unable to keep his attention on the wall, his curiosity and desire in the words she had spoke, caused him to turn to her.

She had sounded defeated at her admission. The proud, confident Cerberus Operative was forced to be confronted with feelings that she admitted in previous encounters to try to bury and to never confront them.

She looked hurt from his anger. She seemed genuinely wounded by his accusations, by his tone, by his words. This look did more to deflate his anger, to silence his suspicions than any of her words could. He wasn't sure you could fake such a deflated look.

In the end she looked and sounded conflicted and torn by the feelings that seemed to be consuming her. She slowly raised her head up high, meeting his curious stare with a defiant look.

She raised her hand in an attempt to put on his arm, but she stopped herself. Instead she allowed it to drop in the free space between the two of them. "As much as I tried to hide or deny them, I… just…couldn't."

"So why are you offering me this Cerberus invitation?"

"Because I think you would be an asset to our organization. I did want you to join Cerberus, Shepard, and I still do, but your refusal won't change the way… I think of you or our relationship."

He could feel the last of his burning anger fade away with her admission. He wasn't ashamed of his suspicion or his questions, but with how he handled the situation.

He allowed his anger and frustration to control his tone, not his usual stoic persona. He was glad that he demanded answers, and sought the truth from her no matter how uncomfortable it had become for the two of them in the last minutes. He needed to know the truth.

"Relationship?" he repeated, noticing the stiffness of her shoulders, she looked frustrated with herself for letting that word slip out.

"Yes," she said, defiantly, moving her hand from the cushion that separated them to his forearm.

He couldn't help but admire her confidence. He looked from her hand on his arm and then back to her ensnaring blue eyes.

"I would like that Miss Lawson."

"You would?"

"Yeah, I want to be with you, Miranda."

These were words he had never said. They were words that Liara had sought in their times together against Saren, words she spoke to him, but feelings that he couldn't reciprocate to the asari archaeologist.

Miranda looked as if a boulder had been lifted off her shoulders at his admission. The tension and unease had all but left her expression and posture at his words. He couldn't fault her relieved reaction, he for a time believed that he was the only one to hold feelings. To be the only one to hold such feelings in a relationship was a harsh fate for either a man or a woman to have.

"But I still can't join you," he admitted, knowing that the words could have been said at a later time, since they seemed to ruin the mood that had settled on them.

"Can't or won't?" she challenged.

"I won't," he said, honestly.

She smiled ruefully, her fingers gently running up his arm. "I should have expected nothing different."

He then had a sudden urge to add. "Not at the moment."

"At the moment?" she asked, pouncing on his choice of words.

He shrugged, knowing she would pick up on the fact that he wasn't exactly closing the door on the option, because if he was honest with himself, there was a part of him that was attracted to the offer of joining Cerberus if the Alliance and the Council continued to do nothing.

"Yeah, at the moment," he admitted. "My tour against these Geth outposts, shouldn't take more than a few months. They promised to look into Ilos, to look into the Reaper theory."

"And if they don't?"

He inwardly sighed, realizing that he was nearly committing to the idea of possibly joining up with Cerberus, but if the Alliance and the Council did not follow through on their promises, then he might not have a choice in the matter. The more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that it felt as if they were pushing him to the rogue organization.

"I will consider a joint alliance," he revealed, not sure if he wanted to be a full pledged member of a so called terrorist organization. He still wasn't sure if he could make any sort of alliance work, but he could be willing to try it, if drastic action was needed after he was finished with his tour.

"A joint alliance?"

"Yeah, working together through means and resources in trying to stop the Reapers," he clarified, he then remembered his friends, his crew. Especially his squad, Garrus, Wrex, Liara, Kaidan, and Tali had all been down there on those Cerberus facilities. They had seen the experiments that Cerberus was performing…

He had seen them. He could still remember the Admiral's body. Shepard rubbed his eyes, realizing that the waters of his consciousness were beginning to get murky… But his primary focus must be on the Reapers; he reminded himself, nothing else matters.

He decided to ask the ridiculous question out of curiosity. "What about my friends?"

"We are more than willing to work with aliens, Shepard."

He nodded, pleased with her words and the sincerity she spoke with, but he wasn't sure if they would be willing to work with Cerberus.

"I'm sure the Illusive man would be pleased with that sort of agreement."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Would you be willing to fight the Reapers with me?"

"All you have to do is ask, Shepard," she smirked.

"I was asking," he joked, slowly closing the distance between them as he slid on the empty seat that had separated her from him, their faces inches apart, before he leaned in capturing her lips with his. She moaned in pleasure, deepening the kiss. Her hands gently running across his chest, her light touches against his attire brought a tingling sensation to him which trailed after her fingers. His own right hand went through her dark curls while his left caressed her face.

It was a moment of bliss for Shepard. He hoped that it wouldn't have to end anytime soon.

* * *

><p>"Shepard?"Called a familiar voice.<p>

Shepard groaned, awoken from his slumber at the call of his name. He blinked in the early daylight from the Citadel as the rays of light crept into his room, assaulting his eyes.

He tried to cover them but as he attempted to move his arms, he found them pinned. Looking down he discovered how, the beautiful and barely dressed Miranda Lawson was draped over him.

He couldn't help but smile; he was still not use to the sight of waking up in bed with her.

It had been only a handful of days since their late night admissions of attraction to one another, but to Shepard it had been a very blessed few days, especially the nights.

"Commander Shepard!"

"ERGH," he responded, tilting his head to discover the source of Joker's voice was coming from his omni-tool communicator. He made another attempt to free his arms, this time successfully. He stretched out to grab his omni-tool that had been discarded on his nightstand.

"Joker?" Shepard replied, realizing how gravelly and groggy he sounded.

"Good morning Sunshine!"

Joker's chirpy tone did nothing to help the groggy commander try to wake up. "What is it Joker?"

"Oh you know, I was just calling and wondering if you wanted the customary continental breakfast or would you prefer breakfast in bed this morning?"

Shepard couldn't help but laugh at the pilot's sarcasm. He always appreciated Joker's multiple attempts to lighten the mood during their mission against Saren. He could feel Miranda stirring beside him.

"Is the ship ready, Joker?"

"It is Commander. Navigator Pressley has just gone through the inventory. We are stocked up and ready to fly."

Shepard pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning on the bed frame as he did. "Then we will leave as planned. At 900 hours, I'm on my way."

"Good Commander, because you know it might look bad if the entire crew arrived to the ship before the Commanding Officer."

"Commander out, Joker," he said, allowing a hint of annoyance to seep through. Judging by his clock he still had a good four hours before they were suppose to take off. He turned off his communicator before Joker could give him a sarcastic reply.

He yawned and stretched, noticing Miranda's attention was on him. He could see the disappointment flicker beneath her blue eyes. But she was quick to hide it.

He too was disappointed, but he had a job to do and a duty to perform. His limited time with Miranda over the last few days had been nothing short of extraordinary. His time with her had been the balm that he had needed in these stressful times…

It had been a rather somber but productive morning for the Cerberus Operative and first human Spectre. Besides a rather enjoyable shower that the two shared, Miranda seemed to be trying to keep her distance from him as they ate a brief breakfast and even afterwards when he got dressed and gathered up his provisions.

He knew what was bothering her. He could see it in her blue eyes any time they turned to him, but she often looked away before he could gauge them further. He looked up as he finished packing to see she was watching him with a pensive look.

He approached her, bending low to kiss her chastely, before asking. "Walk with me?"

She raised a perfect dark brow in his direction. They had yet to go out of the hotel room together. It was something both had agreed to, neither wanted to draw attention to themselves or their growing relationship.

"To the hotel lobby?" he amended, gesturing to the door with his hand which was currently holding his bag.

She slowly smiled at the idea and agreed. They didn't talk as they walked down the hotel corridor, when the elevator did arrive they luckily had one to themselves. It was Miranda who pushed the button for the hotel lobby.

He looked over to see she looked distant. "Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," she lied, brushing her hair out of her face. She kept her eyes on the elevator panel which consisted of the buttons for the various hotel floors.

"It sounds like something," Shepard observed, he had an inkling of what it was.

"I'm just… I'm," she sighed, looking and sounding frustrated. "Damn it," she said, turning towards him, her eyes softening. "Just… don't die on me, alright?" Their eyes met when she added, "promise me?"

"Die?" he repeated. "Don't worry, I don't plan on dying, Miranda." He injected some bravado into his tone, to reassure her, before bringing his hand around hers. "A few Geth soldiers can't kill me."

"I know," she admitted softly, looking relieved to have that particular emotional burden off her shoulder. She collected herself, before adding, "It's just that you do owe me a dinner."

Shepard laughed, "I suppose I do."

"So I'll be waiting to collect."

"Good," he replied, kissing her lips gently.

"Not so fast, Shepard," she said, pulling away from him.

Confused, he watched as her eyes went to the elevator controls to see that they were almost to the lobby. With a mischievous smile, she went to her omni-tool, with an orange glow and a soft click the elevator came to a slow stop, before they could reach their destination. Their elevator was now 'stuck' in limbo between the first floor and the hotel lobby.

Looking satisfied, Miranda turned her attention back to him, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes which was complimented by a growing sultry smile. "Now, where were we?" she purred.

* * *

><p>"Shepard?"<p>

Commander Shepard who had recently parted from the beautiful and sultry Cerberus Operative was now waiting by himself at the elevators which would take him up to _the Normandy_.

"Why are you smiling?" asked Garrus, joining him.

"Smiling?" Shepard repeated. "I didn't know I was smiling." He knew why he was smiling, after what he and Miranda did in the hotel elevator a few minutes ago. Who wouldn't be smiling? He was particularly thankful that there was no glass paneling for their elevator.

He looked up to see Garrus was watching him closely. "I'm just happy to be going out again, Garrus."

"You're smiling, because you want to be re-united with the geth?" asked an incredulous Garrus.

"Yeah, something like that," Shepard lied.

"Uh-huh," Garrus said, with a shake of his head, not looking the least bit convinced in his lie.

"Garrus?" Shepard suddenly asked, sobering up as he remembered his possible ultimatum with Cerberus.

"About what you said at the hotel bar…"

"About us being brothers?"

"No," Shepard said with a laugh. "About fighting with me till the end?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I…I just wanted you to know that I'm not going to hold you to that."

You're not?"

"No, I would understand if you wouldn't want to… down the line."

"Why are you saying this Shepard?"

He wasn't going to tell Garrus the truth. Not yet anyway. "I just thought you should know that I'm not expecting blind loyalty or anything."

"Blind loyalty?" repeated a dubious Garrus. "It isn't blind loyalty Shepard." Garrus sounded insulted at the term when he repeated it. "You have my trust, and you're my friend. I'm with you to the end, no matter what."

Shepard didn't respond to his friend's spirited proclamation. He only nodded before patting Garrus on the shoulder. He still wasn't sure if he could convince himself that even after his friend's adamant words that Garrus's loyalties would actually stretch over to Cerberus. Not that he would blame his friend, if he chose not to.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. He was getting ahead of himself. He was losing his focus, and wondering about scenarios that may not even happen. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He still had a duty to perform.

"Are you feeling alright, Shepard?"

Shepard blinked, looking around to see the elevator had already arrived and its doors had opened. Garrus was standing inside, his hand on the doors so it wouldn't close.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Shepard replied, waving off his friend's concern. He entered the elevator and as the glass doors closed. He looked out at the crowd of strangers, his mind and eyes both wandering as he did, until he came upon a familiar sight-Miranda Lawson.

Their eyes met only for a moment, but there was no mistaking it.

The elevator had just begun its ascent, giving him a Birdseye view of the lobby and though he wasn't able to locate the elusive operative again, he was sure at what he saw. She had offered him a smile before she disappeared amidst the crowd.

He could only smile, pleased and thankful to see her face one last time before he left.

He didn't know what he was going to be up against, or where his future may lead, but he was positive at the very least that the very beautiful and enigmatic Miranda Lawson would be in it.

"You're smiling again." Garrus observed, interrupting Shepard's reverie on Miranda. "You know you humans are quite strange."

Shepard laughed, knowing the truth in his friend's words. All he had to do was point to the circumstances in which he met Miranda, defying all of the odds and obstacles the two faced in their backgrounds. They would become lovers, and not rivals. They became allies, not enemies.

Yes, he had to agree with Garrus. People were very strange.

"You have no idea, Garrus."

**The End **

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry this took so long. There were a lot of different ways to take this chapter, that I wanted to explore, but in the end, I decided to stick with the route that I had originally intended. So I hope you guys enjoyed it.**

**I also wanted to show more of the ME 1 squad in this final chapter. Garrus accompanying Shepard to fight the Geth was just a liberty I took. This is AU after-all.**

**I always intended for this story to be a standalone fic, with no sequel, but the feedback and the support for a sequel that my readers have asked about might change my mind. But if I were to write a sequel to this, it would have to be different enough so that it wouldn't feel like a rehash of ME 2. No promises of any sequel.**

**I am outlining a new Mass Effect story, but I wouldn't expect seeing that until the end of March or April. I want/need plenty of time to play Mass Effect 3.**

**I want to thank all the support that this story has received. This was a fun AU story to write, and I hope you guys enjoyed it.**

**Don't forget to review, to let me know what you think. Especially since this is the final chapter.**

**Thanks again,**

**-Spectre4hire**


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